Cornish Trials and Tribulations
by tsunamicats
Summary: Lucifer takes Chloe to a trip to Cornwall. At the manor entertainment should be guaranteed but things are not always what they seem.
1. Chapter 1

Friday

Her eyes grew bigger. The plain hill, or what it was, ahead resembled nightmarish midcentury black and white horror movies. Grey, moist, with some flickering lights as it was getting dark already. Fairy lights was the name, right? Why couldn't the landscape resemble some nice English countryside with pretty cottages and hortensias? Like in the cheesy novels of Rosamunde Pilcher?

Their matching outfit was at least warming and practical. Some corduroy riding pants and dark rubber boots. A warm braided cream-colored Norwegian style wool pullover and a hunter jacket paired with some rather thick porcine leather gloves and a messenger bag of the same material.

Hunting down an ancient artefact or playing "who's done it!", of course, it didn't matter what it was, if it gave him a rush. But why in October? Couldn't it be in some warmer climate? She stumbled over a root. Even if they were walking along a decent path, nature had been taking over.

"Careful! We're not in California anymore!" Sure, a movie reference!

"But we aren't visiting the Wizard of Oz or the Wicked Witch either, right?"

"Patience! Twenty more minutes."

"It's not very welcoming so far."

"Well, that's the unique charm of the place."

They walked unusually silent for a while until the slippery path ended at a large meadow, a huge stone manor presiding over it.

"See! Here we are! Have I promised too much? This is going to be a wonderful Detective weekend! Murder included!"

She wasn't going to spoil this weekend and complain, but she had imagined something else, taking his taste into account. She smiled at him and asked: "Why couldn´t we arrive by car? There is a parking lot."

"And not have our first reconnaissance round?! Do you deem me that unprofessional? If we want to get ahead of the other couples, we must walk the extra mile! Besides, our luggage is already in our suite."

The extra mile! Literally at least three! Alas, a suite! There might be a bed and a hot bath waiting.

He rang the bell and the heavy oak door opened a short while after.

"Good evening! How may I help you?" asked the man in his mid-sixties.

"Morningstar. If you would be so kind, I believe our room has been set up already" cheered Lucifer clapping his hands while taking huge steps into the hall.

Chloe followed taking the whole surrounding in. Yes, this was the perfect setting for some millionaires or hardcore fans reenacting an Agatha Christie novel. Old oil paintings in baroque frames - mostly hunting scenes with horses and dogs, stag heads on the walls, some mirrors that weren't that shiny anymore, Persian and Pakistani rugs, solid wood tables with opulent flower vases and dark red leather armchairs.

The man who did not resemble a butler or being in service, smiled and eyed them curiously, as Lucifer paid no attention to him, but seemed to be eerily at home. He coughed. "Indeed, we have been expecting you. May I lead you to your chambers?" Lucifer looked at Chloe and repeated "Chambers!" while rocking on his feet, appearing even taller and raising his eyebrows, expecting praise from her.

She smiled at him fondly and took his hand, knowing exactly which effect it would have on him. He was the pleaser and needed to be acknowledged, even if it was something she was already expecting while assessing the entrance hall. This weekend she would indulge him, too, she promised to herself. She had to make up for so much lost time! And she still felt guilty about it.

"Supper will be served at eight, but you can go to the library and enjoy some scones and sandwiches. Guests will gather there at seven thirty for an introduction of the Mystery Murder Case," indicated the man.

"Wonderful! Isn't that right? It will be like playing boardgames with the little urchin, but this time just for adults!" He stretched the last three words, beaming.

Chloe nodded, still not completely convinced but playing along. Why on Earth would he want to impersonate a detective on their trip? "I would like to freshen up first if that is possible." She hurried to catch up with both men who took huge steps towards the impressive wooden staircase, Lucifer leading the way, the other man following somewhat puzzled, trying to keep up. Even the steps were covered with an oriental rug, absorbing the noise of their steps.

"So, this is how the manor looks like now. I was here quite a while ago, but it seems it hasn't changed that much over the centuries," Lucifer mused.

"I gather you are related to Lord Morningstar on the painting we have in the gallery. The resemblance is uncanny!"

"You have a painting of Lord Morningstar?!" Chloe asked looking surprised at the host, then turning with a stern look to her companion. "I would very much like to see that." Lucifer looked like the cat that had swallowed the proverbial canary.

She hit him with her elbow. "Did you really drag me out here just to show me that painting?" she whispered.

"Of course not! It was merely a fortunate coincidence and I took the opportunity. It is very well done. The painter was very talented in every given aspect, I must say." He put on a very innocent face and turned to look at something seemingly more interesting.

In the meantime, they had reached their suite at the end of the West wing and the host opened the door with an old iron key. The door squeaked a bit when he pushed it open and gave way to a room with a Victorian canopy bed with light green drapes in the center and a built-in bench with cushions of the same color by the stained-glass window. Their suitcases stood next to a carved wardrobe. Fortunately, the room had been updated to modern standards and included a next-door bathroom with a free-standing bathtub Chloe was eager to get into.

While Lucifer dispatched the man, she opened her suitcase and went through her toiletries. She was about to head to the bathroom when he took her left hand and pulled her towards the bed. "My Queen, how do you like your accommodations?" he said with an exaggerated pronunciation and gesture.

"It pleases me very much." She performed a rather awkward curtsy, losing her balance and landing partially on the bed laughing like a little girl and putting a hand over her mouth. He hovered over her for a moment, apparently thinking of what to do, getting closer to her lips, then just touching the tip of her nose, and smiling somewhat teasingly. "Hurry up or we won't get the homemade scones! It's almost four thirty." He looked at his engraved pocket watch. "We need to get to know the competition." She sighed, disappointed. He could sense it.

"Extra dessert later."

"You are aware that we have quite an unfair advantage to the others, right?"

"Certainly." He kissed her on her forehead and pushed her towards the bathroom. "Chop, chop, Detective!"


	2. Chapter 2

Thirty minutes later Chloe had at least showered and changed into some white five-pocket jeans and a cozy blue-green cashmere pullover Lucifer had presented her some days before their departure. "It brings out the color of your eyes," he had simply said, but by now she knew it meant much more and she wanted to please him so much after what had happened in L.A. When she stood in front of him, he pulled the little necklace with the bullet over the turtleneck and tucked one of her slightly curled locks behind her ear.

"You look beautiful! Let me look at all of you." He swirled her around and his eyes sparkled. "The people downstairs might not be your cup of tea, I know, but you might enjoy yourself and even more with me as company." He offered his arm, walked her downstairs and into the spacious library.

The room was more a smoking room than a typical library, even if there were walls covered with bookshelves. Three leather Chesterfields were arranged facing each other and a beautiful fireplace where some logs were already cracking in the flames. A large portrait of a man with a white wig and a black frockcoat looked down on them, in the back the estate they were at. Some other portraits were scattered around the walls, one even held in its place by a Chinese flowerpot with irises, presenting a woman in a yellow Regency dress, a boy with his hound and a young woman in a blue pelisse – apparently most paintings were from the early 19th century. Even most of the furniture seemed to be of that time, mused Lucifer. It was really a blast to the past, but he recognized no one on the paintings. Odd.

Chloe had chosen a couch and was helping herself to a sandwich. He took the simple white Wedgwood cups from the tray and served her and himself some Oolong tea. No ashtrays, no humidors. That was the concession to the 21st. century. So far, they were the only people, something he appreciated as they could settle in. He sat beside her, taking in her warmth, her scent, and her beauty. It was so good having her for himself on this trip. At work and at her apartment there was no opportunity, sometimes not even at his penthouse. His home in the hills was not yet ready to accommodate them, but it would be by their return. They could enjoy the sunsets at the pool, she and the little urchin would like that. His daydreaming was interrupted by a questioning look on Chloe's face.

"Yes, Detective?" he said out of habit.

"Where are you with your mind of yours? You did not listen to anything I said, right?" she asked, slightly annoyed.

He put his cup on the silver plate on the table in front of them and kissed her softly. Then took her cup away and sat upright, his hands on his legs. "I apologize. I am all yours!"

Before she could reprimand him, he was saved by a newlywed couple in their early thirties. They looked boring: rhomb pullovers, a blouse with laces, brown corduroy pants and tweed jackets. The younger woman had an ostentatious engagement ring on her left hand and some pearls around her neck. She wore nearly no make-up save the dark red lipstick and her husband had a haircut Detective Douche would have loved to copy.

"Llewellyn-Hoarse" the man in question said curtly but with a distinctive pronunciation.

"Morningstar. I presume you are from London." Lucifer answered with an arrogant pitch in his voice, stood up and nodded slightly, then he turned to the brunette, brightening up and offering her a smooth handshake. "How lovely to get acquainted. Your husband is ever so lucky." Then he looked at Chloe and helped her up. "May I introduce you to my extraordinary consort?" He stretched the last word and gave her a classical kiss on the left hand, lips not touching the skin, but showing her off as his most precious possession. Chloe smiled, even if she wasn't fond of his performance. What was he doing? Peacocking? Really! She was not his little trophy wifey!

The young woman didn't look blasé anymore but grinned stupidly, Chloe thought, and her husband had already catalogized Lucifer as a threat to his alpha male position and social status.

Seven more people entered the room accompanied by the man who had guided them to their suite and settled in, nodding, and offering greetings to the ones present. They were shortly followed by a dark-haired woman in her early twenties.

"It appears that we are complete now," said the host. "My name is Robert Thatcher. I am the estate's administrator and your host for this long exciting weekend. If you need anything additional, please let Pauline know, she will pass it on to housekeeping or service." He pointed to the young woman. "Tomorrow we will start with our Mystery Murder Case following loosely Ten Little Indians, a mystery hunt and finish with a game- and karaoke-evening." Chloe poked Lucifer, but he gazed at her without understanding.

The host continued "You will find suitable costumes according to your character you will portray after dinner in the music room at the end of the gallery."

"End of the gallery!" Lucifer whispered to Chloe facing her fully with a mischievous look.

"Ah, your little selfie, eh?" Now Chloe smiled mockingly.

"Selfie!" He spat the word out as if he had tasted bile and his eyes took a pitch-black shade. "How do you dare saying that! It's far beyond that and quite insulting!" he burst out. It seemed as if a dark cloud had emanated and was hovering in the room. Everybody was now looking at them, Chloe feeling judged and not just by Lucifer. She hit a nerve; she just didn't know what it was what made him tip over or why that painting was so special to him. Probably the others in the room thought it was about an embarrassing selfie of hers. Shoot! She looked at him with a daring grin, although she knew she shouldn't poke him anymore. Since he returned, he had been on edge and it was barely subsiding.

Mr. Thatcher cleared his throat to draw the attention back to himself, but no avail.

One of the older women looked at her with some pity and, probably only to make conversation, asked: "That is an interesting pendant you have. What is it?"

Before Chloe could answer, Lucifer took over "That's a bullet. From when she shot me. Shocking, isn't it?" Duh, Chloe! He was absolutely challenging her.

Now even Mr. Thatcher looked openly interested with where this quarrel fit for a soap opera was going. This was really slipping out of Chloe's hands. The women were salivating not only over the juicy story but also over the 'poor spouse' who married down and on top an American weapon crazy menace.

"Well, he had it coming." She sighed first, creating suspense, shrugged nonchalantly, and smiled broadly, and finally looked at Lucifer with big open eyes who responded to a glimpse of fire in his own ones.

Maybe we can turn the tables Mr. Morningstar!

"He was practically begging for it!" she added looking at everybody else, picking up her fine bone china, taking in the many eyes which were just waiting for a detailed story fit for the yellow press. How she would have loved to say, "he enjoys punishment." Would have been the icing on the cake! But Lucifer wouldn't have known what hit him and thrown a tantrum, questioning her loyalty, she knew it. Such a drama queen! She couldn't behave with him like she did with Dan but had to bring him around if they were going to enjoy this weekend. Therefore, she chose to put the teacup back on the saucer, nestled in the couch looking fondly at him and put a hand on his knee.

"I had to hunt him down, he is quite a catch!" she said then.

"I am, am I?" Lucifer was completely startled by the comment, suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree, took her hand and kissed her again. Always so happy and adorable when he was praised, she thought.

Chloe helped herself to some delicious biscuits and fed him one, blinking twice at him. He was so easy to get from furious panther to fluffy kitten. There were two or three things she remembered from acting school and they usually worked to appease him when he got too dense. The others looked completely baffled. Probably their marital disagreements poisoned them for days.

Mr. Thatcher finally was able to get the attention on him and the schedule for the next days before a server came up and announced that supper was ready.


	3. Chapter 3

After an unexpectedly uneventful dinner Lucifer excused himself while she stayed talking to the couple left of her. Both in their forties, they came from Manchester and owned a traditional garment business. Mr. Landau was a jovial man with red cheeks and a healthy laughter, his wife Patricia looked like she worked hard all her life and could now enjoy the fruits of her and her husband's efforts. Nice people with a grounded lifestyle. Chloe took another sip at her Bailey's on the rocks and relaxed. Maybe this weekend wasn't going to be so difficult after all.

Nearly half an hour later Lucifer still hadn't returned, and so she went out to get him.

She knew she would probably find him looking at himself, on the painting. She wandered a bit around taking the manor in until she found the gallery in the Eastern wing, approached him silently thanks to all the rugs and stood by his side, looking up to the painting.

"No way!" she blurted out. "It's a nude!"

He looked slightly bothered and lectured her: "Yes, it is a study for 'Dante et Virgile' from William Bouguereau. He was considered the best painter in his time." He turned to her arms crossed and standing tall and she could see that he was very proud of it.

She slung her arm around his waist, inhaled his scent of tobacco, sandalwood and wool and kept quiet, admiring the detailed muscles of the two nude men and the facial expressions of the visitors in hell.

"So, Dante's Commedia has haunted you ever since?" she asked after a while.

"Yes, but in this oeuvre, I am not the punisher as you can see."

"Who is the redhead supposed to be? A demon?"

"Mike!" He basically growled at the name and then took a deep breath. "Finally depicted as the nemesis he really is." His brother had been a pain in the neck for an eternity and the grudge against him hadn't disappeared but deepened more and more until it was engrained in his very being.

"Oh!" She pushed herself nearer, embracing him completely. "I thought he looked more like you."

"It's the emotion, not the person, Chloe. The model was just somebody inconsequential."

"Okay." She could sense that deep memories stirred up. "Would you like to have it?"

"Maybe." He pondered. "Maybe not." It was beautifully executed but to have this memory, even only allegorically, at home, would not let him heal. As if it would heal!

His eyes finally met hers and his mood changed immediately, taking her by the waist, lifting her up as if she were a feather and twirling her around. He was so lucky to finally have a soul who appreciated him!

"Let's get our costumes! I wonder if you fancy a flapper dress with string pearls and a feather boa. Bessie Smith, the famous blues singer, did. And you know that blues was branded as Devil's music."

"Obviously the King of Hell is plotting for a terrible punishment."

"Obviously," he replied.

"No sweet dessert for me tonight?" She tucked her long blonde hair behind her ears and looked up at him.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?"

It was past eleven thirty when he retrieved the near empty bottle of Taittinger, let the last content drop in her bellybutton, retrieved it just as fast with his skilled tongue and continued to circle latter southwards, eyeing her ever so often.

She was a bit exhausted from the day but his elaborate for- and after-play injected her pleasure and a certain alertness Dan had never achieved.

"I could make you something in the kitchen. Something where you could be used as plate."

He had now reached the c-section scar below her bikini zone and peered at her assessing if she wanted him again or maybe just the food. He then grabbed her legs and buried his head between them.

Around midnight they sneaked into the manor's kitchen. Copper pots and kettles were hanging from the iron structure over the island, some copper molds for pudding or fishcake on the walls. Lucifer looked in the double door fridge for basic pancake ingredients after he had taken out sugar and flour from the well-stocked pantry. He lit the gas stove and within some minutes he had presentable pancake wraps with butter, berries, cream and honey on two plates. He put two fingers into the honey jar and fed Chloe with them after he had placed her on the island, then licked the excess from her lips and bit into a large juicy strawberry while wiggling his eyebrows.

"You never get tired." She helped herself to a large piece dripping of butter and honey.

"Is there a question?"

She shook her head trying not to get sticky pajamas while putting everything in her mouth.

"By the way…You know that some guests are trying to invoke me?"

"Hm?"

"They are playing with a Ouija board, it seems. I can hear them in the library gossiping and trying enchantments. Maybe I should pay them a visit." He grinned maliciously. Chloe nearly choked on her piece of pancake.

"Really? You want us to go over in our PJ's and tell them you are the Devil? After you omitted that topic during dinner?"

"I would never go over in my pajamas Chloe! That would be extremely inappropriate! The King of Hell in pajamas! At a séance!"

"So, you want to get dressed again?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Chloe! I believe you need your eight hours of sleep. You are not thinking straight!"

"Oh!" Suddenly she understood what he had in mind and grabbed his arms by the wrist. "No! Please don't! Not tonight!" He hadn't been so reckless before, right?

"No? Do you worry about a heart attack or do you desire your late-night dessert right away?" He licked her lips and bit them carefully.

"Lucifer!" She looked at him pleading for some sense in him.

"Okay, okay!" He mumbled something that sounded very close to "Killjoy!"

"I won't say no to tomorrow or Sunday, but tonight I want you for myself." If she was lucky there was no séance the following nights. "But if you like we can have a peek." He needed his choice and she knew he wouldn't let something pass when he had set his mind to something 'fun'.

"You are curious! And you always say that I am the proverbial cat!" He touched her nose again, and she tried to go with the tease - somehow.

"You are right. I would like to know what the other couples are doing. But I don't want them to know. So just a peek from the door. Besides you have excellent hearing."

"Ah! Right, Detective!" He looked proud at her, as if she had come up with an ingenious plan and fed her the last small pancake wrap with crème bavaroise and blackberries. "And my hearing is celestial, especially my sense for music, as you know. Do you want me to sing for you?" She shoveled a handful strawberries in his mouth and kissed him on top, but there was no way to shut him up. His mouth still full, he continued: "Blues or something from the nineties?"

Somewhat later they were approaching the library. The door was ajar, and they could observe six people sitting at a round table in the back, among them the snobbish couple. They were whispering, concentrating on a board. A young woman was putting some fingers on a glass.

"They don't even have a proper instrument!" complained Lucifer to Chloe and immediately paraded in. "That is no way to summon the Devil, darling! Do you really think I can be invoked by screeching a simple shot glass that makes mice squirm when I'd rather prefer a nice straight scotch?"

"Apparently you can! And in silk PJ's!" hissed Chloe trying to keep up. Lucifer spun around and stared at her, looked down baffled, but within milliseconds producing a convincing and seductive smile.

"I apologize for the inconvenience, but we were busy in our room …and in the kitchen." He swirled right back to the startled men and women and smiled, licking his right thumb lazily. "These are no hours to disturb honeymooners! But as we are here already, you dreadful gossip girls might as well confess what you all desire so my lovely and freezing consort can go back to bed." He pierced his eyes into the twentysomething first who brabbled about wanting to pass her B.A. "Boring!" he exclaimed, then he looked into the eyes of the stunning redhead in the dark green dress that had sat opposite him at dinner. "So, what about you? What is it you desire?"

"I want you, and her gone!" Her voice became seductively low and she looked as if she would jump him.

"Dearie me, that is not going to happen, even if Hell freezes over!" He blinked, took a step back and turned to Mrs. Llewellyn-Hoarse who giggled like a caught schoolgirl.

"I want a threesome with two Italian bodybuilders!"

"Do you now? And your husband?" He helped himself to some cashews.

"He doesn't perform that well." She continued giggling hysterically while playing with her pearls.

The men in the room became very quiet when Lucifer Morningstar raised an eyebrow and looked them directly in the eye. He then turned to his love who had been the reason of the gossip he had overheard before and gifted her with a soft kiss on the forehead.

"Well, my Queen, I believe that is all I needed to know and by the looks of them I don't think they will continue littering and hurting my ears. Can we go back to bed then?"

Chloe gifted him with a sweet smile and accepted his arm graciously.

"Of course, Lucifer!"


	4. Chapter 4

Saturday

Morning came with pouring rain and the temperatures had lowered even more. Although the central heating was on when she awoke, she craved for his body. He was, as he had always affirmed, walking heroin. No down cover could substitute him, although she buried herself in them while he was gone to who knew where.

It didn't take long for his return. He was already fully dressed for the rainy climate, carrying, among some bags, two large to-go-cups of hot coffee in his hands, one smelled like cinnamon with nutmeg and whipped cream, the other straight and strong black, just like a triple espresso.

"Rise and shine!" he exclaimed happily while he placed himself beside the bedpost and handed her the sweet brewage. "I also got you some dark sea salt caramel truffles from Charbonnel & Walker. But you can also have some of my whisky truffles. Such a delight! Even got some spooky truffles and an advent calendar for Beatrice." He almost bounced showing her the contents of the paper bag.

"Good morning!" she replied good natured and sipped her coffee. "You went out with this weather just to get me my coffee and some chocolates? Thank you, darling!"

He basked in her praise. How could she not love his glorious open smile?

"Is there a nice shop in town?"

"I wouldn't know, I got these things on Bond Street." He took a sip and leaned against the post.

She looked at him incredulously. "You went all the way to London to get me treats?"

"You slept through breakfast time and I didn't consider it prudent to wake you up."

"Oh! That was so thoughtful of you! What have I done to deserve such a gorgeous Devil?"

He could barely contain his joy and snuggled right up to her.

"You dare loving me."

The rain kept pouring while they went to the small town about two miles away. Lucifer held a sheet with some instructions for the morning rally while trying to evade every puddle on the trail. Chloe was looking out for clues. So far, they had collected four items and some hints to where they should go next. Further away the Landaus were searching for their items, too. Mrs. Landau waved at them and Chloe eagerly returned the greeting. She felt much more lighthearted than the day before and she attributed it to Lucifer's extremely good mood and his attentions to detail like choosing the right umbrella for the day or checking if a scarf was sufficiently soft to the skin. Instead of being annoyed by it, she now felt pampered and cosseted, something her mother had never done. And… she was in her element. Detective work was what she loved, where she was good at, and both excelled at connecting dots when they worked together. She finally understood why he had chosen this activity. They would enjoy the task beforehand, probably unrivaled.

Lucifer had noticed the change in her behavior since last evening, even when he pushed her to the edge and tested her loyalty. She was not responding badly but mostly running along and accepting his mood changes he had been experiencing since returning. That was a good sign for a relationship, wasn't it? Lack of acceptance had cost them dearly and now he needed to be sure that she wouldn't run away or turn against him again, so he tried bond with her in as many activities as possible, just as Linda had suggested and this time he would listen.

He scanned the area for the next item and found it in a tree hole. Too easy, but fun nonetheless as he held her up high to retrieve the little mirror while she tried not to get wet and prevent sliding through his arm. Both laughed wholeheartedly. "I got you!" he exclaimed while he let her happiness pour over him.

"Look! There is something engraved in the enamel!" She handed him the item as soon as she was standing on the ground again.

"This has nothing to do with our rally, but it is rather strange to find such an inscription on a woman's trinket. Maybe there is another quest waiting for us!" His eyes got darker. "Here it says: Si vis pacem, para bellum. And below: Vae victis! Why would somebody put this on a travel mirror?"

"What do you think it means?"

"I don't know yet, but it calls for research. Something you are good at. Which reminds me that on my painting were some other Latin writings. Didn't make much of them, but maybe, just maybe…"

"You believe they are connected?"

He shrugged. "What about the other things we have?"

She looked at the little brass bell and the tin cup. "There is nothing on the bell but something tiny inside the cup." She handed it over. "Noli turbare circulos meos!"

"Strange indeed. Why would somebody recite Archimedes at the bottom of a simple cup? We still must get to two more stations, maybe we find more clues. We'll need to check all items at the end of the day. And the paintings are off, too. The people in the library are not related to the original owners of the manor. I don't know if the actual owners just bought them or they are from the married in's… Can you ask Mr. Thatcher?"

"Sure thing." Chloe made a mental note and took some photos of the engravings for safekeeping.

They kept going until they arrived at the ancient stone church of the town. The small Gothic building was partially covered with moss while many centuries old gravestones surrounded it. There were no trees nearby, only grass covering the place and so the carved stones as reminders of mortality stood out. Chloe shivered. The rain had picked up intensity and they hurried for cover. The small wooden door in the tower gave in as soon as Lucifer had put his hand on the iron handle.

"You really have to stop doing that!"

"Do you want to get soaked or even sick? You know very well that I don't know what to do with human ailments. I can produce a very decent chicken broth, but I can't deal with complaints about headaches, fever and stuff." He had to duck first, but then strolled into the building, leaving the umbrellas dangling at the holy basin and Chloe rolling her eyes, the latter encouraging him to get his flask out of his pocket. "Drink! It will warm you up." She declined. He went further into the dark nave until he reached the chancel. Wooden benches, royal blue cushions and stained-glass windows where the faint light found its way in. "For being nearly eight hundred years old it still looks very sober, don't you think?" Lucifer took a hearty pull and grinned as he watched a priest hasten along the aisle catching up with them.

"The church is closed for visitors!" the man almost shouted.

"Good day, father! I guess Dad wouldn't mind if we take cover from the rain. He already played some games with my vacation plans and that's why we are here. Now, I need your help to get a piece of the puzzle for Mr. Thatcher's rally so we can be back on time for luncheon. You do have the piece, don't you?" He swayed a bit back and forth before he looked at Chloe: "See, I can be quite civil if I decide to be!" With a nod towards her he then crossed his arms in front of the chest, raising himself to full height, frowned and pierced first Chloe and then the man with a stare that induced goosebumps to both humans. The priest took some steps back. She rolled her eyes again, much to Lucifer's delight, shook her head and turned to the priest.

"Excuse us for barging in like this, but you might be in possession of our clue for the rally Mr. Thatcher from the manor on the hill organized. If not, we apologize for the inconvenience."

Lucifer exhaled exasperated but refrained from making a comment. Nonetheless he didn´t take his pitch-black and slightly glowing eyes off the man. These scumbags had caused so much trouble and pain to him and his loved ones, they should always feel his ire.

The priest produced the tiniest smile for Chloe, but eyed Lucifer fearfully.

"Just a moment." He rushed out to an adjacent building.

Lucifer took another sip and lowered his head, his nose fumbling with her ear. "Funny lad! Don't you think he ran as if I was hot on his heels?" Chloe smacked him in the chest but grinned back. "You really have to stop doing that. You're terrifying, even to me." He embraced her and felt her shiver.

"You are cold. Let me warm you up. You mustn´t get sick! Please don't." His dark brown eyes pleaded like a kitten for a stroke.

"I don't intent to." She smiled and caressed his cheek.

"Good." He nuzzled his nose with hers, before he turned his head towards the entrance again. Where is that imbecile anyway? This is taking forever! These men of Dad are all alike! No hospitality, no manners, no backbone!"

It didn't take more than five minutes until the reverend returned with an envelope. He wanted these people out of his church. The sinister man had been very unsettling and commanding, he had doubled his size in front of him or so it felt and ogled him as if he was no more than a church mouse. Weren't his eyes like burning charcoal? And what was that American doing with him? Although she seemed to be friendly, the faster they got out, the better!

However, the atmosphere the priest sensed when he entered, had changed from absolutely life threatening to a sentiment he couldn't describe but with absolute joy, warmth or care as he watched the dark haired man with the Oxbridge tone and a little Welsh accent fondling the American, adjusting her scarf and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. When the man kissed her on her forehead the surroundings seemed to be bathed in an inner light. The priest stood in awe, suddenly feeling the presence of something divine of which they apparently weren't aware. His heart was beating ever so loud and he didn't dare to approach them. The woman at some moment in time turned around, smiled, came over to him and received the envelope.

"Thank you so much!" she said emphatically and towed the now very pleased man behind her.

The reverend couldn´t but ask: "Who are you?"

"We are the Morningstars." she replied happily, and her husband glowed. They left and immediately the building went back to dark, dismal and lifeless. When the temperature dropped considerably within seconds, the priest remembered the word for the singular feeling he had experienced: 'Agape'.

He had to sit down on one of the benches weeping bitterly, for he mourned the loss of divinity.


	5. Chapter 5

The envelope only contained the information of their next destination which was conveniently on manor ground as lunch time was in half an hour. They geocached and found a small silver ring behind a brick in the South wall of the stables. No inscription here. The rain had receded, but Lucifer insisted they should take a hot shower and change into something dry before heading to the dining room. Back in their room Chloe organized the bounty while Lucifer chose his black suit and matched it with a deep violet shirt for lunch. Then he produced a matching long sleeved dress as well as an elegant black jumpsuit out of a bag.

"Which one do you fancy?" he asked and immediately whispered "Take the dress, take the dress!"

"Hand it over!" To Lucifer's surprise Chloe accepted it without complaint.

"Who are you and what have you done to my consort?" he inquired half serious, half joking.

Even taking their time they were the second couple to have completed the task. Chloe let herself fall in one of the inviting armchairs of the yellow salon and watched the rain dripping from trees and bushes in the lush garden. How different was this from the oceanfront and the dry, warm climate of L.A.!

"You did so well, Lucifer! This place is just what the doctor ordered!" she praised. He took a seat on her armrest and she touched his arm, falling for his warm brown eyes all over again. His features that had originally softened over the years working together, were still deeply rugged from his time in Hell. She leaned onto him and he immediately started purring. He was continuously craving for affection and attention while being high strung at the same time, always tense, always expecting betrayal or pain - she could only imagine what he had been through. He had always been very hermetic about Hell and he would probably never confide if it wasn't a 'need-to-know'. She closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled his distinctive scent mixed with sandalwood and vanilla. Vanilla? Had he been using her shampoo? Chloe smiled thinking about it. He always complained of her using retail products. And this was worse for being half-a-gallon-wholesale. She let her hand wander down his arm until she reached his left hand and intertwined her fingers with his. His ring mirrored his eye color. Funny, she thought. It usually appeared black. Chloe suddenly heard her stomach protest.

"Let's see if lunch is ready. I am starving."

"Yes, you have to put on weight and skipping breakfast doesn't help."

"You also have lost weight, a lot actually." She gesticulated with her right hand.

"But I am already catching up."

In the main dining room, the fireplace had been lit, the sparks of the logs making a pleasant sound. The table was just in front of it and beautifully set: the china, the napkins and tablecloth all in white, the crystal glasses and the silverware reflecting the dancing flames – a contrast to the dark furniture, the paneled walls and the coffered ceiling.

For Chloe it reminded her somewhat of the Thanksgiving dinner before she had married Dan. Her mother had had some photographers over for a home story and an interior designer had decorated the home. It had never been more beautiful, but this here was cozier. The flower bouquets were small and made of flowers of the garden apparently, this simplicity made it more real, homier.

"This is so beautiful!" She whispered and squeezed his hand, he smiled in return and helped her to her seat. She felt like being in a serious relationship for the first time, although she knew this wasn't the case, but enjoyed being courted like she had seen in other couples. Dan hadn't learned it and she had never missed it before because she hadn't considered it important.

Two more couples were already sitting at the long table, they hadn't been at the séance, so there were no hard feelings toward Lucifer or her when they exchanged some small talk about the weather and the rally. She inquired if they could have a look at their items after dessert. According to them they all were old and apparently of the early 19th century. She exchanged glances with her devil. This couldn't be a coincidence! But why were they used for the rally? Wouldn't they be too valuable to get stolen or lost? Why? Why? Why? She was wrecking her brain out on this one. She had to treat it like a cold case taking in all the information at hand and then go into the archives which meant to go to the library as well as checking info online and ask the administrator about the items and family.

The other participants arrived within minutes, some deliberately sitting further away from them until there was no space left. The Landaus had taken their old place, left of Lucifer but on her right the father and daughter pair looked uncomfortable, despite her smile. Lucifer didn't care, of course, and engaged in a conversation on wool quality with the Manchester couple. He did small talk so well; one couldn't imagine him being exasperated by it. He let the words capra hircus - and Chloe knew about his loathing of goats all too well, pashmina, merino, 90s or super 100s drop and the Landaus were delighted. They complimented his tailored suit and Mr. Landau even rushed to his room after dessert to present him a silk necktie and a handkerchief to go with. Lucifer accepted them with many kind words, put the tie on, something he would never use, but he was a giver, humoring people for whatever reason. Him and her were invited to their city by the couple and he agreed on taking a trip there.

"We really should extend our stay in Great Britain, Chloe. There is so much to see and you didn't go to the British Museum on your last trip to Europe, isn't that right?" He looked at her intently and the reminder of her treason made her cringe like being hurt by a whiplash. She lowered her head instinctively. How often would he remind her of it? How long would he be suspicious of her? How often did she prove him she was worthy of his trust? It had almost been a year now! She had to address this issue, but for now she took a deep breath and nodded, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Yes, we should. It's always good to expand our horizons." She smiled brightly.

He mirrored her and reached for her hand.

Maybe she was just overreacting and reading things into it where there was nothing at all. But the tiptoeing had to end and asap.

Right then they were summoned to get into character for the Murder Mystery game and told that in their rooms they would find a file with clues to two other figures of the novel.

"According to the novel the characters all die. I'm not in the mood for that!" stated Lucifer, but reached for his costume, nonetheless.

Chloe took her Flapper dress in her left hand, saying: "Ok. So, you are not going then." She coughed a bit, cleared her throat and continued: "And we two need to talk. I love you but I can't deal with you questioning my loyalty over and over again. It makes me sick; I feel a big heavy stone in my stomach, and it literally aches everywhere. If we want us to work, I need you not to make any comments regarding last year. I need it for my own sanity that you stop torturing me like that."

He glanced at her, slightly astonished. "I cannot promise that. Chloe, I might have my doubts once in a while and I will need to talk about it and expect an answer."

"Ok, but this has to stay between us and not involving strangers, nor insinuations. If you feel insecure you talk to me and to me alone! You know that something like before won't happen again and I have proven myself to you by now, right? I have accepted you! I waited for you, kept things going for you and that should show that you can rely on me. That should be enough!"

She positioned herself in front of him, standing in her fine cream-colored lace lingerie and long silk stockings, her outburst coloring her skin pinkish. He was so enthralled by her pumping pulse, so sexy when upset with him and she didn't even notice it. She had always truly been his mistress.

He nodded; maybe she would be the black swan who would falsify the notion that humans were always treacherous towards the Devil. And yet she had betrayed him when she found out, despite their history, hadn't she? And it had hurt, it still did. And she was now refusing processing it with him? Chloe seemed to have finally accepted intellectually who he was, but neither liked nor tolerated his 'hellish hotness' next to her as she had euphemized it. He had tried to roll with it, hiding his red, scarred skin and leathery wings but he wanted, no, needed to know he wasn't backstabbed when showing them, either. He threw the clothes on the back of the armchair, sat down and offered his hands. "Come!" He drew her close and buried his Roman nose in her perfectly shaped belly button taking her in. Her anger had released sufficient adrenaline and cortisol to make him want her, take her. He kissed her just above the seam of her panties. Feeling his eyes burn, he looked up to her. When theirs locked, her body went stiff, and her pulse started to race.

That was that. You expect trust but you don't trust me!

You still fear me, unconsciously, Detective Decker! How have they conditioned you that years of trust just vanished into thin air and the slightest reminder of my true nature frightens you deeply?! I want you to want, no, love all of me!

He smiled, eyes still burning red and looking at hers; placed his mouth firmly onto her bellybutton and blew warm air on it until it made a farting sound. And again, and again, until he heard her saying: "You are such a goofball!" And then she messed up his hair…


	6. Chapter 6

Lucifer Morningstar joined the group when they were nearly finishing with the reenactments of the first half of the book. In the end Lucifer had chosen not to wear the costume but black chinos and a black cashmere sweater over a dark red shirt, he was late, and it made no sense to play along, especially not without Chloe. Pauline Thatcher, the daughter of the administrator and organizer of the game, looked at first puzzled, not expecting him anymore while he asked for some medication against headaches or a cold and told her he would wait for Trivial Pursuit which was accompanied by some sighs of relieve from the persons present.

She excused herself from the group and led him to the cabinet with medical supplies. "Shall I send somebody up to the room? Call a doctor?" she asked.

"Thank you ever so much, my dear, I will let you know, but for the time being I'll think we'll manage."

As long as the guests were happy it didn't really matter, thought Pauline.

After Chloe had taken the Advil and dozed away, Lucifer proceeded to the library to check on the volumes for clues and then went back to the yellow salon they had stayed earlier to read and distract his mind. He had taken off the shoes enjoying the pleasing softness of the pastel colored Chinese rug before putting his feet on the mauve puff, barely settling in and reading a few pages when Tom Westinghouse, a businessman in his forties, approached him.

"The Devil reading Kant, eh?"

"Well, it wouldn't be Lao Tse, for sure." Lucifer looked up from the armchair Chloe had sat earlier and where some of her scent still lingered. The man was the typical Wall Street employee he thought, overconfident and always under stress, always trading, selling, 'worshipping the old mighty dollar' as one art dealer once had put it. Money in itself was nothing, just a means to make life more pleasurable. He never would understand why humans loved their money so much.

"I've checked you out. You have quite the portfolio in equities."

"And you might be?" Lucifer already had a dislike for the guy, lacking basic manners.

"Tom Westinghouse. I work for one of the Big Seven."

"And you plan to harass me into investing during my vacay? That is blunt."

"And bold. You should be avid to know what I can do for you. Your portfolio could be diversified and increased tenfold, better than Blackrock, better than Vanguard. Just give me some time and I'll explain it to you with apples and pears. You can ask for a background check of mine. I would love to do business with you."

"Would you now? Why do you assume that a club owner has no financial knowledge at all and is not able to distinguish a bond from a share?" He sat a bit straighter and glared intensely at the man in his ridiculous knickerbockers. "So, tell me Westinghouse, why would you love to do business with me? What is your true desire?"

"I want to become the biggest shark in the stock exchange ocean," the equally tall man blurted out.

"Do you now?" Lucifer was already bored. He took up his lecture and hid behind the book, though he continued with an insinuating low voice: "Why don't you go and look for our Jessica Rabbit? You might find yourself a bunny to get lost in a hole. Do me a favour and hop off to her."

Westinghouse blinked incredulously and left the salon immediately.

It had only been a month since he had returned from his realm, where he had been killing off rebellious demons, their corpses left where they fell, carrion to the beasts of Hell, subjugating the rest, giving free reign to vengeance and retribution as they had coerced him into returning. Him, who valued free will more than anything else! Sporting his scarred physique and his new dark wings he had fought, tortured, dismembered and scared his subjects into total submission. Angry beyond words, the Devil had acted without regrets and getting back to his earthly self was difficult to say the least. When Mazikeen had reproached him for leaving her behind, he had lefthandedly thrown her across the living area, breaking her arm and shoulder. He needed these holidays to get grounded and restrained.

Kant was supposed to help.

Lucifer went upstairs to retrieve Chloe for gaming time when he smelled scones, teacake, lemon curd and black tea. She was a bit weak, but not feverish, her belligerent mood from before vanished after nap and caresses. Drinking tea with ginger and honey would serve her well. He had a special thing for her when she wore light colors, it made her fair skin look healthier and her hair more golden. Maybe because she looked so opposite to himself, so good and true. Oh, he had become such a romantic! He picked her up and carried her downstairs and into the library, ignoring her comments of perfectly being capable of walking by her own.

Trivial Pursuit was a piece of cake when it came to World History, scientific achievements, music, arts and the acting world; the Landaus had enough insight into British specials. Westinghouse had indeed pursued and teamed up with redhead Senta Stanley and was giving them a bit of a competition, while father and daughter Cunningham were solely into literature, classical music and arts, and soon fell behind as did the retired nurse, the blond Welshman and the snobbish couple with the double name.

Chloe was wrapped in a soft fake fur blanket, snuggling on his side for warmth, legs tucked under and sipping on her Jasmine tea. He felt very content if not happy and more remnant memories of Hell drifted into the back of his head. Everything was falling into place and he was earthing himself again, slowly but surely.

Around six they had won the game and Chloe looked proud at him, he even blushed slightly and ordered a bottle of Roederer to celebrate. They shouldn't say the Devil wasn't generous.

It was also the first time Mr. Cunningham addressed him.

"What do you make of the painting of your ancestor? Relative?"

"Well, it's an interesting study for 'Dante et Virgile'. I had the opportunity to see the finished artwork in France some years ago."

"Why do you think your lookalike is the tortured soul here? Wasn´t his name not the same as yours? Shouldn't he be the torturer instead - given his name?"

Chloe looked up to her companion, surprised at the insinuation or the logic behind it. Lucifer smiled sardonically.

"Maybe the victim was more important than the torturer? Maybe the painter wanted to make the suffering more relevant than the observers in the background? In the end it doesn't matter, does it? The execution of the bodies and the colours are much more impressive than the message and we are speaking of mid-nineteenth century where the authenticity of the human form was as celebrated as were the classical human stories, even if it was about Hell itself. Then we also have the Pre-Raphaelites in British art, don't we? Wasn't their crudeness mixed with secret signs and symbols hated in their times? Even Charles Dickens criticized them and he for sure used poverty and social differences in his writings, too." Lucifer finished the content of his flute in one gulp and reached for some lemon curd. "Or, let's remember The Ancients who gathered around Sir William Blake. They were deeply religious in their topics having a mystical vision of Nature. But when it comes to realistic intercourse in art, I do prefer kitschy perfectionist Jeff Koons with Cicciolina, both gifted with wonderful bodies. 'Made in Heaven' blurs the line between art and porn delightfully and the materials used are somewhat decadent, don't you think?" He turned to Chloe and took her hands between his own. "Cicciolina is such a nice person! A bit lost at times, but you would like her."

Cunningham looked startled at first, apparently not expecting the club owner with notorious reputation and a sharp tongue to be a conversationalist when it came to arts and literature, then made a sour face when Koons and his ex-wife were mentioned.

Terry Court, the Welsh thirtysomething, pitched in: "Wasn't that an Italian porn star?"

"Indeed."

Chloe smiled at Lucifer's rhetoric, how he had deflected an awkward question aimed at his persona and turned it into a juicy conversation about porn.

Also Mr. Court showed his teeth, although that looked a bit lewd, Chloe thought and suddenly she saw his face showing some recognition of her.

"You, you have been in a movie, too, haven't you?"

"You got me!" Chloe answered, feeling slightly embarrassed. This Hot Tub thing was never going to go away!

Senta Stanley suddenly looked at her and typed something into her smartphone. "There's nothing on a Chloe Morningstar on IMDb." She stated matter of fact and stared at Chloe.

"Obviously not. It's not her maiden name." Tom Wellington sighed but his eyes lit up. "You are Chloe Decker! Daughter of Penelope Decker!"

"That's so true! I am ever so lucky." exclaimed Lucifer and filled Chloe's and his champagne flute again.

"Then we have a Hollywood star in the room?" Mildred, the nurse asked.

"That's an overstatement!" Senta remarked in a way it wasn't sure if she was referring to Lucifer or the nurse.

"My line of work is quite different today," replied Detective Decker, wrapping herself more into the blanket, "acting wasn't for me."

"Are you in the music business?" the nurse inquired.

"No, that's Luce's expertise. He owns a popular night club in Los Angeles and actually has the voice of an angel." Chloe patted his chest and looked up to him. "Maybe you would like to sing for us later?"

Before the former angel could answer, Mr. Cunningham looked intently at Chloe: "Well, being him truly Evil Incarnate, his voice shouldn't be that of an archangel anymore." Chloe nearly choked on her tea and Lucifer tensed, while Cunningham continued as if nothing: "My daughter also sings, she was in a church choir for many years."

"Oh, I shouldn't even dignify this comment with an answer, but for everybody here to know I did praise the Holy Father for many years as well, my vocal upbringing being rather classical. Maybe we should take the karaoke competition to the next level and let the others bet on who is better?" Lucifer tried to find a dexterous exit to the enmity in Cunningham's voice.

"Why on Earth do you think my husband is the evil one here?" Chloe interceded, sitting up, putting her teacup down and crossing her arms in front of her. "Would you nail somebody to the cross just because his name's Jesus? I'd call that quite prejudiced and petty. But what could one expect from a superstitious Englishman who plays with a ouija!" She turned to face Lucifer and hold up her index finger. "I don't want you to answer any stupidity that comes out of this, this…" She huffed literally "bigot! Two Scotch, double and neat!" The waiter grinned and exited swiftly.

Lucifer Morningstar was impressed and knew he should keep his mouth shut until after the whisky arrived. Young Maya Cunningham certainly did not and tried to defend her father but was shut down by Chloe: "Don't even try to defend the undefendable! Your father's remark was way out of line! If I hear another insulting comment, I will personally sue you for slander! And believe me that in front of an American court this will hold up."

For some guests of the manor this was another evening spectacle courtesy of the Morningstars, and they would certainly bet on the outcome of the karaoke night.


	7. Chapter 7

"Are you sure he is the actual Devil? He doesn't seem to be anything more than a wiseass with a dominant trophy-wife. Maybe this is all for nothing."

"He was outstanding at our Trivial Pursuit. Didn't even notice these were not the original questions. We will have to test him further and then banish or incarcerate him if he proves to be the Lord of Hell. His companion has already noticed that the things we placed at the rally have some meaning. Someone in the organization had been quite elaborate in his notes and it seems to be him."

"She is a detective, that's her job, so she had to notice. He apparently didn't make much of it and was more into her than the silver items. I can't believe the Devil would let a woman or any human handle him like this American does. She basically told him to be quiet. She scolds him almost all the time and he will oblige or tone it down. Does that really sound like a ruler of demons or punisher of souls to you? And when it comes to art, I read he sponsored several artists in the last years and goes to see the L.A. Phil regularly. He even donated to Dudamel's charity project."

"Yet the priest of the church where one of the clues was left, was visibly shaken by his presence."

"That lad is impressed by anything. It's a small congregation and he might not be accustomed to loud or pretentious city people. I would take that into account. Mind you that Morningstar didn't fall for the women he apparently fancies. His companion is older than the ones he usually invited into his bedroom. Maybe we are just dealing with a former playboy who needed a strong woman to take the reins."

"We will see what happens tonight and act accordingly. The cellar is ready."

The man standing in the dark gallery in front of the Bouguereau just shrugged when he parted into the opposite direction of the other two conspirators.

When dinner was announced Chloe padded her handsome man and tried to stand up from the space, she had occupied for the last two and a half hours, containing his excitement and his anger. He was high-strung since coming back, any emotion thrown at him could make him tip. The trick was anticipating his cravings, especially for drinks or food. Those usually did the trick to calm him down as did her hands. He pulled her back and she landed on his lap.

"Thank you!" he whispered into her ear. "You see now that they are always after me? No rest for the wicked." He produced a slightly distorted smile.

"But not everybody is." She rested her forehead on his. "Come! Let's enjoy dinner!"

"I am not hungry."

"No wonder. You almost finished the lemon curd all by yourself, my sweet tooth!"

Dinner was a traditional four course meal consisting of mock turtle soup, mixed salad with walnuts, pear slices and goat cheese coated in black ash - which Lucifer left on the plate, a nice rack of game with steamed vegetables, potato croquettes on red-wine-based gravy, and finally rum and sherry trifle. While Chloe couldn't finish her plates and got a bit tipsy of the wine selection served with them, Lucifer ate her leftovers in spite of what he had said and even asked nicely for a second serving of the rack and dessert. Things and people seemed suspiciously odd since Cunningham's insinuation and he tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Two men, namely Westinghouse and Court, had a certain resemblance in physique and assertive character traits while the women were quite of his liking, he was drawn to all of them and fancied their well-built bodies and soft skin as well as their beauty in general. The only exception were the Landaus, Cunningham father and nurse Thompson. It could be a coincidence. Now that he remembered how he found out about the weekend mystery special, it didn't seem random. Was there an algorithm used to put people together in order to hurt him? Was that technically possible? They got your preferences on social media easily, that was a fact, and his social and business life had always been an open book. They knew he liked to play in general, so the offer was full of games and amenities to his liking. They got this manor and restocked it apparently with some memorabilia, but out of context. They might not know he had an eidetic memory.

It was a trap!

It was not the first time, nor would it be the last. But from now on he needed to be careful to not endanger his precious human, so he would play along to some extent. He could make them believe he was just a club owner from L.A. and expose them, too – and he didn't even need to bluff.

A white sixteenth century vaulted plasterwork ceiling was the eyecatcher of this beautiful music room. Semi-reliefs of knights, hounds, horses and every day medieval scenes filled it, but didn't overwhelm the spectator because of the absence of color. An old piano forte and some other instruments like a harp were scattered randomly and the radiant white walls displayed dark portraits in opulent golden frames making them stand out, just like the black fireplace. The wooden floors were in prime shape as no squeaking sound was produced when stepping on. It certainly appealed to every visitor.

Some wooden armchairs were arranged in a half circle around the piano and a microphone from Sennheiser with a Marshall amplifier. So professional! Lovely! Lucifer couldn't ask for more, could he? No karaoke? On a desk next to the door was a laptop. Good.

"What are you going to sing?" asked the blond Welshman. "I bet quite a sum on you."

"And I intent to win this. I have five songs on my mind, but I will let Miss Cunningham chose hers first. I reckon we have to sing some songs together so you can get the ultimate experience." Lucifer Morningstar grinned widely.

"I understand you will adapt to what my daughter will be singing. I expected nothing less from the Devil." Mr. Cunningham approached him nearly soundless from behind. Lucifer swirled around and grew taller but contained himself enough to not arouse more suspicions. He needed his detective save and although she seemed to feel better, she wasn't in prime conditions.

"Not completely, but I will step up the game continuously. I must say you are putting your daughter in a predicament. She is young and might not have had as much vocal training as I have. As father it is your duty to look out for your children and not using them as a pawn at your whim. You should consider withdrawing her from the competition and we just sing along. Music should be a pleasurable experience, not a battlefield." He nodded towards Maya Cunningham. "Miss Cunningham, shall we call it off? I presume your father still wants you to stand up against me, but in the end it's what you desire."

The young woman shook her head. "I don't want to disappoint anybody." She eyed her father.

"Very well then." Lucifer went to Chloe, who was sitting on a chair next to the piano, standing behind the chair and putting both hands on her, disguising his inner turmoil by massaging her shoulders while everybody settled in. Why was he on edge? He was the predator, not them.

Mr. Thatcher had reappeared with his daughter and both were fixing cables and the microphone stand. They projected the laptop screen on one wall, so the lyrics or could be read easily.

"We might need some sheet music if you have. Opera? ¿Lucia di Lammermoor? Magic Flute?" Cunningham interceded, his daughter looking at him a bit shocked.

"Certainly. We can print them out right away." Miss Thatcher replied.

"Can we start with something less tragic or difficult? Maybe 'Cake by the Ocean'? I'd like to interpret that song, so our audience gets the L.A. lifestyle. I find it lightens the awful mood here and maybe some care to dance a bit. Fight the calories off." Lucifer Morningstar tried to joke, but the audience was hard on him.

It took another five minutes to have songs and sheets ready. Maya Cunningham sat at the piano and started to sing Schumann's 'Mondnacht'. Well, the night wasn't really moonlit, but it surely was a perfect song, the text touching everyone's core and so well performed by the girl, Lucifer thought. He still was sticking to the pop song with the double meaning as the song was intended to make Chloe smile and not to win the competition. He took his sweater off and hung it around her shoulders, then he proceeded to take his position by the mic without touching it and nodded Miss Thatcher to hit it. He needn't put a lot of effort into the song, it flowed easily, he knew the lyrics and his mojo and smooth tenor captured the attention of everyone in the room although he only ever looked into Chloe's eyes. He relaxed a bit and continued immediately with "One Kiss" from Dua Lipa jumping to a soft voice moving invitingly with his hips which made Chloe bite her lips and most of the other men and women salivate. This was actually fun, but then it was Maya's turn again. 'Tonight, I rose at midnight' by Hugo Wolf. A sad love song from over a hundred years ago! Was the girl getting any pleasure in her life? Mr. Cunningham then urged her to go for opera music next.

Lucifer chose instead Gilberto's 'Fly me to the Moon' as he could modulate his voice to sound darker and jazzier… and play the piano. He could go for a difficult part later on.

He turned smiling contently to Maya afterwards.

"Would you care to accompany me? You singing and me playing the piano? Whatever you desire as long it is from the 20th or 21st century. It's karaoke, not an audition for the conservatory. Might be fun."

Unfortunately, she shook her head again after risking a glance at her father and went all the way for the Queen of the Night's 'Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen'-aria. Far too difficult for the girl and she didn't get some high notes which sounded extremely painful to the Devil's ears.

"No, no, no! This is not like it is done! Let me show you!" He grabbed the music sheet exasperated, returned to the piano and motioned her to sit by his side. Then he started to sing the partiture reaching from his countertenor up to the voice of a dramatic coloratura soprano, enrapturing every person in the room.

"Your voice is not trained enough, has no sufficient tessitura and can't reach the notes required. You see why you shouldn't have used this aria?" He stated matter of fact when he completed it, while the audience looked at him in awe. "Don't look so shocked! I am definitely no Carlo Broschi." When nobody seemed to understand he added "Farinelli. The castrate." He turned his attention back to shattered Maya and patted her hand. "Come on, let's sing something much easier, less dramatic and more pleasurable for you and me! What about 'Smooth Operator' from Sade?" He held up a sheet and smiled encouraging. "We could do it as a duet."


	8. Chapter 8

Sunday

The Devil was red, hot and now utterly pissed.

He had been awake for quite a while, his beloved human curled up under his leathery right wing and the white bed downs, contemplating her features, her respiration, well, more her snoring which funnily made him always feel at peace. He had one arm around her, pressing her against his scarred skin, warming her, inhaling her body scent, but right now he perceived something else. Someone else! He shut his fiery eyes, but his sense of smell and hearing caught a man next to the door. They were under the downs with the curtains of the bed partially closed, so the intruder couldn't see him in his current state. He listened to drawers being pulled and suitcases being checked. The Devil reverted to his human form, his precious company complaining in her sleep as his wing was tucked away, and the burglar froze. Good! The guy wasn't armed with a gun. Made it so much easier! He waited until the man continued with his search, slipped out of the bed and positioned himself at his rear, looking over his shoulder.

He whispered: "Care to tell me what you are doing here at the Devil's Hour? It's three o'clock! That's no visiting time!" The rather sturdy man swirled around, a knife in hand, but easily disarmed, and Lucifer pressed his left hand around his throat. The intruder fought for a short while, trying him to let go, but he just tightened the grip, holding the man up, pushing his thumb onto the trachea and searching his pockets with his right hand. He found some of his consort's jewelry. "So, a thief then? Haven't they taught you that nobody steals from the King of Hell?" He didn't let his eyes flash as his temper was enough to install fear. "We are going to have some fun together." Immediately he dragged him to the armchair, not letting his left hand off the airpipe. When he noticed the man choking, he lowered the pressure infinitesimally. There was nothing to restrain or fix him at the place, so his own body had to suffice. As Lucifer straddled over the solid build man, he could appreciate the lean muscles, result of heavy labor as much as the hands of the thief, which were hardened by calluses. He pressed his hot body against the other. "Did somebody send you or did you just take a shot at the opportunity?" The thief shook his head, so Lucifer had to push him some more over the edge. He grabbed his scarce hair to lock his eyes with him and growled "You will tell me everything!" He didn't use his mojo, as Chloe called it, he was far too invested in containing himself. "Who are you?"

"Samuel." yelped the thief. Samuel! Name of Dad! Pretty close!

"Ok Sam. Let's put it that way: If you tell me what I want to know I will not rip you into small pieces. Rest assured I am perfectly able to do it with my bare hands. Who sent you? Mr. Thompson? Mr. Cunningham?" he hissed and bit in the skin over the carotid artery to make his point. The man barely squeaked, his eyes displaying the fear of a prey before losing its life. "But you are not here on your own, right?" A suffocated sound came out of the big, fleshy mouth. "Don't toy with me!" He placed one knee on the abdomen while he licked his lips, bared the teeth which reflected the poor moonlight from the window and breathed hot air over the throat.

"A man paid me to get a black stone ring. But he didn't give me his name." Even Lucifer could barely hear the man.

"Is that so? And what do you do here?" He pushed his whole weight on him, slightly cracking the lower parts of the ribcage. May Dad be damned, fragile human! Chloe will be so pissed when she finds out!

It's always when, never if.

"I am the gardener." The man whimpered.

"How Agatha Christie!" The left hand loosened around the throat of his prey allowing the man to catch some air. "How did the man look like? Why did he want the piece?"

"He's masked and tall. I don't know. Just saw him once." The thief wheezed, having a very hard time breathing.

"You are no use at all!" exclaimed Lucifer loud enough for Chloe to stir and stop snoring. "Leave and don't come back!" The threat in his voice was more than tangible. He kicked the man out of the room, turned the key and then went to the bathroom. He needed a shower right away. It had been exhilarating but he didn't like the reek of fear lingering on his naked body and Chloe would like it even less. He now knew he had definitely been targeted but still had no clue by who and why.

He snatched the complimentary organic soap, the skin peeling heat of the water finally calming him down.

Chloe woke up in sweat. She stumbled out of the sheets into the bathroom without looking at Lucifer who was wrapped tightly under the Nordic downs only a foot dangling off the bed. It had just begun to dawn when she splashed some cold water onto her face. She turned the shower on, hot water pouring out immediately and she looked on the device for the temperature. 45°C. Whatever that meant in Fahrenheit, it was too hot for her and she turned it down, just below a red line which said 38°C. Much better! She let the water run down her skin and reached for the soap, which wasn't where it should be either. It didn't really matter, her shampoo would do the trick, too, but obviously Lucifer had tampered with everything and not put things back. Not like him at all, but yesterday had put a strain on him, apparently. She would need to take him out of the manor for a while, away from these awfully nosy and prepotent people, and for sure he would cherish pampering and her full attention. A walk at the seaside would be good, even if it still was raining. A smile crossed her face as she remembered the tongue twister from her childhood about selling seashells by the seaside. She had never been to an English, let alone Cornish coast and it might be nice to walk along the little cottages and houses down to the sea. In comparison to California these seemed like doll houses, adorned with flowerbeds and picket fences. She lost herself under the water for another while. When she came out of the shower the sun had risen, but because of the heavy rain clouds the day seemed pale and grey. Chloe tried to imagine how Hell would look like. Probably dimmer, immersed in twilight, if any, guessing by how smooth Lucifer and Mazikeen moved in almost complete darkness.

Returning to the room, she noticed open suitcases and drawers, clothes and accessories scattered on the vanity table and all over the floor. Torn between waking him, picking up and getting into fresh clothes, she chose the latter and went back into the bathroom. Her brain tried to connect the findings, but with him deep asleep things were supposedly in order. She put her black, tightfitting jeans on, a white t-shirt and a white woolen sweater on top of her lace underwear. Thick socks would protect her from the cold, those were the last remains of Sensible Chloe. Her husband had spoilt her with almost daily gifts for two weeks now.

After combing her dampened hair, she wrapped it again into a fresh towel she had taken from the towel heater in order not to make too much noise. No way she could deal with a grumpy devil today!

She was picking up the mess when Lucifer muttered something unintelligible and rose from the downs.

"Apologies Chloe!" He let himself fall back on his pillows; eyes closed again.

"Care to explain?"

"Not yet."

She sighed. It would be futile to get more out of him for the time being.

"Come back to bed!"

It sounded like an order. She didn't obey, obviously, and continued ordering things.

"Bed! Now!" it growled from the bed.

"Manners, Mr. Morningstar!"

Before she could even see him, she felt him standing not even half an inch in front of her irradiating heat from every pore of his alabaster skin. His hellish red eyes were staring down at her and he held the leathery wings high up, as if he wanted to attack. Her heart pounded so fast she thought it would jump out of her, but she didn't move away and stared back, elevating her chin. To her surprise he put his right index finger over his lips and grabbed her with the other arm, pulling her to his bare chest. He was listening and waiting.

Now she could hear them, too. Three voices deciding how to act on what they had heard and seen. Not taking his eyes of her he lifted an eyebrow making a face saying, 'I told you so.' Then they heard manipulation of their door.

Chloe padded his chest and proceeded to the door. She winked and motioned him to the bathroom. Then she turned to the door and swung it open, startling the men on the other side. She recognized Cunningham but not the other two.

"Ah, the welcoming committee of the British inquisition! Room service with or without pitchforks?" She pushed through the door and immediately closed it behind her "To what do I owe the pleasure for you coming to my room and trying to invade it without permission? On a Sunday before 9 a.m.! On an empty stomach?" She spoke so loud and furiously that several doors were opened, people lurking out expecting another Morningstar drama. The three men stepped back. Cunningham was surprised but conveyed a hysterical answer somehow.

"The Devil has to go back to Hell! This is no place for him! He must leave at any cost!"

"Do you listen to yourself?! Are you aware of the nonsense that is coming out of your mouth?" She rolled her eyes just the same she had done for many years when she had to deal with her partner's 'Luciferness'. "Where do you get the idea from that my husband is the actual Devil? Do you really believe that? Well into the 21st century? Let me tell you something: My husband had a very difficult childhood and that is still an understatement! He suffers from PTSD and your stupid behavior will trigger setbacks for many months. If you really have researched him as you pretended yesterday, you must be aware that he is in psychological treatment and had himself committed once. You will destroy any advancement made if you continue!"

She pushed her hands into her waist and stared aggressively at the men.

"His voice is not human!" Cunningham insisted.

"Just because your baby girl couldn't reach the notes and my husband is a countertenor with a large range? Give me a break! He sings for a living!"

"How come he is on the painting?"

"What?!" Chloe shook her head. "Have you had a good look at it? There is no way you can see a full face and compare it to my husband's. There might be family traits, I give you that, but that's it!"

The other two men retreated, one even apologized, but Cunningham kept his stand and exclaimed with fervor: "I will prove he is the Devil!"

"Please! Go ahead!" She shook her head again, turned around on her socks and returned to the room, her open hair emphasizing her movements.

Nothing prepared her for fear taking over when she was about to enter the dark bathroom. It had turned into an antechamber of Hell itself. Hot steam was lingering everywhere, condensing on the mirror and the window while the sentiment of life-threatening danger oozed from the far corner where two red dots were staring at her, scanning her like a possible prey. Chloe had difficulty breathing, goosebumps and sweat breaking out at the same time; she froze at the doorstep, pupils dilated, and was unable to enter.

The Devil was sitting on the bathtub, showing his fangs.

His dark wings covered most of the available length of the room; dark sienna colored, scarred and burned clavicles, scapulae and ribs hardened like an armor, sternum standing out under the thin layer of the remaining pectorals and the vertebral column displaying hornlike protuberances. He was slightly bent, resting his grimacing skull on the back of one claw, the other arm covering his lap; but still of imposing height, his features distorted, showing some thin muscles and tendons all over the nearly skinless face, his supposed lips curled diabolically. He started to speak; growling and hissing in a language that resembled Maze's outbursts. Lilim. Chloe could barely understand her own name pronounced, and it made her want to get out of the room, hide and curl up in a corner. However she managed to stand her ground even when he got up, piercing her with his fiery orbs. In a blink of an eye he was merely a hand's width away, breathing hot air on her face, showing his fangs, curling his wings around her body and licking her throat, followed by her chin and lips. For an instant she stopped breathing, trying to play death.

But this hellish creature was hers, she reminded herself, shared her bed and table… and loved her. She overcame her headless panic and looked at him, waiting for his next move.

"I was scared they'd hurt you. I am officially impressed and proud of you!" He stretched very slowly, carefully assessing her reaction, smelling her adrenaline rush and offered his large claws palms up. "You made me look like a mad man, but I guess that was better than this option to dissuade them." He growled in a very low pitch and extended his wings fully, twitching them briefly before making them disappear, then reverted to his usual earthly form instantly.

"You wouldn't." She tried to conceal her remaining fear, swallowed and coughed; her heart not yet able to catch its usual rhythm. She moved carefully, switched the lights on, walked back to him and started caressing his long, still heat emanating fingers. "Not in the hallway looking like your hellish hotness."

"I would have protected you at any cost. You know that, right?"

Chloe nodded. "But not always the best course of action." She held his hands loosely, still having some trouble breathing. He was often exhibiting a feral attitude since coming back, always prepared to fight, but never as ferocious as now. She swallowed hard, again.

"By the way, what happened out there?"

"Oh, that." He frowned. "We had a visitor. He was looking for my ring. I kicked him out."

"I see. Did that happen to be connected with the incident right now?" She was coming around, taking a deep breath.

He shrugged. "Not likely. The burglar was the gardener. I don't see it. Cunningham is not tall."

She looked at him incredulously but wanted to change the subject for the time being.

"I would like to have a strong coffee, eat something and then go for a walk at the sea. I need to get out." When she saw the disappointment in his face she added. "Are you coming with me?"

"Absolutely!" He recovered his confident posture. "But first you come back to bed, please. It's far too early for a Sunday." As if nothing had happened, he displayed his impeccable teeth, smiling lovingly, touching her nose before picking her up, carrying her out of the bath and throwing her playfully on the covers.


	9. Chapter 9

The sea breeze was stiff, cold and the water of the Celtic Sea as grey as the sky, but it wasn't raining anymore. There was no real beach, but a rough patch of green and stone next to a cycling road and a small harbor with a marina for tiny fish trawlers and a lobster hatchery. The air smelled after fresh cut grass, rain-soaked earth and salty water; he had his consort hanging happily at his left arm looking at the little shops on Quai St. which already made a perfect day. She had insisted on rather casual clothing for the trip. He felt a bit awkward in his black jeans he hadn't worn for some years and the new padded jacket of the same color. Nevertheless his reflection on the store windows revealed nothing short of perfection. The little town couldn't be farther from Los Angeles, and Hell seemed absolutely unreal which was a soothing feeling. When Chloe spotted a tiny bakery and patisserie, he urged her to enter, arguing that she must be cold because her nose already resembled Rudolph's. The cakes and pasties on display looked delicious and a strong espresso would heighten his spirits even more. The owner, a young New Zealander, recommended a streaky bacon, brie and spiced plum chutney toasty, a sandwich with prawns in Marie Rose sauce, some fresh berry roulade and lemon meringue pie for dessert.

"Let's have all that! How come that a New Zealander finds her way to this place in Cornwall?"

"Oh dear! To make a long story short. My grandfather lived across the river and I fell in love with the place. Where are you staying?"

"At the manor on the hill." Responded the former archangel.

"That's nice!" She smiled broadly, looking at him a bit longer than necessary. Chloe was used to it after all these years, so she kept her smile, not that he could help it anyway.

"Indeed, it is." Lucifer adjusted his cuffs under his dark red pullover before he proceeded to play with the cutlery.

"I hope you are enjoying yourselves here. You make such a nice couple!"

"Thank you!" Chloe nodded. "We were in dear need of a vacation far from everything, in spite of things catching up on us."

"You can always disconnect the mobile!" the bakery owner winked and hurried into the kitchen.

Lucifer reached for her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers, smiling and tracing her features with his eyes. For outsiders they looked just like an ordinary couple of tourists, well maybe more superior than average looking, but not standing out and, even better, without pressing obligations in California or Well Down South.

"When we get back to L.A. I want to take drawing and painting classes!" he mused.

"Good idea! Your sketches really leave much to be desired!"

"And desire is so important in life!"

Chloe's happy laughter sounded like little golden bells to him. He bent over to kiss her when coffee and tea with cream, white and brown sugar, Splenda and rock candy were being served by another girl who gasped when she accidentally came in touch with his arm. Blushing, she rushed behind the counter and engaged in a vivid chatter with the other waitress and the owner, eyeing the handsome customer.

"You have a new fan club in Cornwall!" Chloe couldn't stop grinning.

"I am completely innocent. Don't hold it against me." He begged mockingly with his brown eyes.

"Sure, you are! Drink your espresso!"

She grabbed his chin softly and pinched his center with her thumb. He playfully tried to bite it, then dipped his spoon in the cream and placed some on Chloe's nose, which she wiped immediately with her index finger and licked it off.

"No 'don't touch my nose' anymore? This was level two. Tastier."

"Definitely." She took a rock candy and placed it in her teacup. Lucifer took the opportunity to serve her from the pot. "Thank you for everything, Lucifer! This is wonderful! Even with the crazy man at the manor I am enjoying myself very much." Her green-blueish eyes twinkled while she sipped the hot liquid.

"It is my pleasure!" He basked in her praise, as always.

When the sandwich and the toasty arrived, it was brought by the waitress who had been attending the counter with the many sinful looking cakes. Apparently, it was her turn to examine the handsome customer. The food looked mouthwatering with the mixed salad with some radish on the side. Lucifer split the breads into halves and fed Chloe the shrimp-sandwich first.

"Not so greedy! Do I have to teach you how to enjoy your seafood slowly? Or do you want to devour my fingers, too?" He wiggled his eyebrows. "Greed is a sin! Not that you, the ex-atheist would know it."

"And the Devil would definitely punish me for that terrible sin."

"Of course, my dear Chloe! There is no other option. You will have to take another bite and leave it in your mouth until you can tell me five ingredients."

"Is that so?"

Lucifer Morningstar nodded, making an earnest face and flashing some hellfire in his eyes just for the fun of it. He took a piece on his fork and pushed some more sauce on it before putting it in Chloe's mouth, holding a hand under the slice so it wouldn't ruin her clothes if a shrimp fell from the fork.

"Now?"

"It's a Thousand-Island-dressing. There is tomato ketchup and mayonnaise. Maybe some pepper. Maybe I'll get two more ingredients if I split up the mayonnaise in its components."

"A Mary Rose sauce is very similar, but homemade. So, there is pepper but also real tomato and no vinegar, Worcestershire sauce, high quality mayonnaise and lemon juice. In restaurants they can't use fresh mayonnaise on ground of possible salmonella. You remember the chicken offering early in our partnership?"

"I really don't want to know those last details… And that is the reason you cook, while I just eat." She laughed wholeheartedly and he joined in.

"And I have to cook a lot because I am far hungrier than anybody else." He virtually inhaled the other half of the sandwich and went for the toasty.

xxxxx

When they left the little bakery and headed back to Quai Street Lucifer had the sensation of being watched, and not by the usual bystanders who wanted a glimpse of him. He drew Chloe nearer putting his right arm around her waist, keeping her on the far side of the street, like every old school gentleman would do, and looked for a store they could stay for some time. Under the pretext of needing some souvenirs for the precinct, he entered a gift shop. While supposedly deciding which mug to get or maybe a commemorative plate with the Queen on it – Ella would go crazy about it – he scanned the area in front of the shop entrance. Chloe was still unaware of the situation and going through some possible t-shirts for Beatrice. He was right. At the other side of the street a man in a parka hadn't moved and was looking at them, not even trying to hide the surveillance. It was annoying, but so far not a threat. He turned to Chloe, receiving two t-shirts, some magnets and a mug and went with her to the cashier, a young male student who was immediately mesmerized by him and took more time to wrap the gifts than necessary. She insisted to pay for it herself, getting confused with the pound notes – something that made Lucifer chuckle and what earned him a stern glance in return. He took the shopping bags and pecked her softly on the mouth.

"Shall we walk by the seaside for a while? There is still no rain and we could have some more us-time." He suggested.

"Yes, let's do that. I love it here."

"It is rather lovely here, isn't it? Come!"

They walked, hands intertwined, past the boats and trawlers to the other end of the harbor where the river and the sea collided. The colors reminded him of a Turner painting, he would definitely take the art course back in California. There was some sand nearby, not a real beach, but Chloe could look for her seashells. Some seagulls took flight when they approached and stopped making their usual noise.

"That's funny."

"What is?"

"That the birds stopped shrieking."

"You never noticed it before?"

"What Lucifer?"

"That birds and wild animals in general shy away from me. They sense my predatory nature."

"Oh!" She looked at him with a certain sadness in her eyes. "I am so sorry!"

"Well, it's not like there is a lot of pretty wildlife in Los Angeles, anyway. And on the bright side you'll never need to call an exterminator." He tried to joke it off, but it certainly didn't come out that way.

He put his hands into his pockets and let her go down to the narrow sand strip while he was looking out for 'parka lad'. The guy still lurked around, now sitting on a bench and trying to feed non-existing birds. Lucifer fished for a cigarette and ignited it. He exhaled some smoke rings just for fun, waving to Chloe, who had already collected some rather small shells, but paraded them like trophies.

_Chloe is the epitome of low maintenance! And like a little girl! No, actually Beatrice isn't that inexpensive to satisfy._ He remembered the doll incident and chuckled of how Chloe had been upset that he had bought her the chef doll with the chocolate cake. Detective Douche's hateful look had been priceless! Had it only been three Earth years ago? Hell certainly distorted time perception!

He lit up a second Dunhill, leaning over the railing leading down to the riverbank, fondly watching her walking up and down the strip, looking up once in a while and smiling at him. Life seemed so easy for them right now, joyful and light. He could get used to it. If he could, he would freeze time right here and now and put it on a loop. Probably that was what humans experienced in Heaven.

Constant bliss!

xxxxx

Lucifer did neither acknowledge the stranger, nor the knife - until it stuck in his back.

There was the intense electric tingling as if the nervous system reacted to a short-circuit in the body. He felt the heat, not his own devilish heat, but the precise, soaring heat of the stab wound. He still managed to cry out for Chloe to run and turn against his adversary before pain became overbearing. The sharp blade was entering his left lung, collapsing it and making it difficult to stay on his feet. He still subjugated the man who was shouting "God is great!" and "Vanish Iblis!" among many curses and supposed spells and buried him under his burning and aching body.

"Bloody Hell! Will you shut up!" Lucifer coughed up blood but managed to keep the man on the floor. It wasn't 'parka lad'. He noticed from the corner of his eyes how that one got up from the bench and walked slowly towards him. He closed his eyes, exhausted. Feeling betrayed. He never could feel free and at ease, it didn't matter where he was.

Chloe was running towards the old boatyard. She had tried to dial 911 but it didn't work, they used another number apparently. She needed help. Lucifer needed help! And she needed to get as far away from him as possible in order to do just that. She ran up to a long two-story house made of dove grey stones and cried for help. Some fishermen came out to see what the commotion was about. She convinced some of them to help her husband and watched them heading towards the harbor. The apparent owner of the house called the police after Chloe had regained her breath, leaning at the stone wall surrounding the little garden. She thanked the lady and returned slowly to meet Lucifer again.

Blood was staining his back, he could feel the sticky liquid cooling it, but the bleeding had diminished, and his breathing got better. Good Chloe! She had acted on his will for once. He still coughed up some dark blood, right on top of the fanatic who tried to get out of his grip, screaming curses and praising Dad. The man in the parka was coming nearer. Lucifer couldn't even reach for the blade. There was nothing to do about it at the moment, he wouldn't let the backstabber get away.

Suddenly he heard some other men coming from the left, shouting, and a siren from another angle. His monitor, or whatever he was, left the area quickly after having taken a photo with his cell phone of his injured back and blood coming out of nose and mouth. One guy less to worry about.

The fishermen tried to put him on a stable position which actually helped with breathing and held the perpetrator until a medic and the police arrived. Finally, the knife was removed! Chloe was also back, sitting on the cold and humid floor next to him, stroking his hair. Lucifer was still in pain but didn't want her gone. Her scent offered some comfort. Besides it was more credible if he suffered somewhat.

Dr. Hunt was the practitioner of the town who attended him. Chloe had cleaned up his face and thrown away the wipes, the remaining wound didn't seem that deep anymore and he could breathe almost normally again. The police had the fanatic in custody and would probably declare him a lone wolf. He wasn't his problem anymore.

Chief Inspector Hisham was in charge. It was absolutely unusual to have a murder attempt in his town, and even more strange committed by somebody who had called the victim names like Iblis and Aduwallah. He asked the beautiful, no, stunning wife of the victim for their names.

"Chloe Decker Morningstar and Lucifer Morningstar." Chloe stood up, wiped her hands on her pants, stretched out one to greet him entering detective mode, but couldn't hide her emotional distress.

"I am a detective at Los Angeles Police Department and my husband is a club owner, businessman and also consultant to the LAPD. We are… were enjoying a long weekend at the manor on the hill. We were just going for a walk. In fact, I was down there looking for seashells when my husband was attacked from behind by this lunatic. I have no clue why we were targeted. We're tourists and just been here since Friday."

"Lucifer Morningstar you say. Is that an alias?" Hisham couldn't believe his ears.

"I wish!" Chloe sighed while she walked with him towards a nearby bench and sat down.

"Do you know what the perpetrator called your husband?"

"No. I couldn't understand his language. But I am sure it wasn't nice. It's not the first time my husband gets discriminated, insulted or threatened by fanatics, though usually they are Catholics or Protestants and the attacks verbal. Just today in the morning we had a similar situation, but no weapon involved. I could persuade them to back off." She looked back at Lucifer, worried. He tried to smile in order to encourage her and letting her do the explaining.

"He's usually outspoken about his name. Even uses it as a hook to attract customers, in Hollywood that works quite well. He loves to sing, dance and party… and as a consultant for the police he wants criminals to get punished. He actually enjoys it when justice is being served." She said it matter of fact but her constant glances over to her husband betrayed her state of mind. "Sometimes he loses his temper when he is accused of being evil. He resents that. Who wouldn't?" In a lower voice she told Hisham "I sometimes fear for his life."

"Has he been violent lately?"

"What?" She looked at him, slightly angry about the insinuation. "We are quite private here and were just strolling and for certain not bothering anybody. Before we were at the bakery over there, you can ask the owner."

He got off the bench and went over to greet the medic who had just finished bandaging the husband who awkwardly tried to put his clothes back on. He nodded and when the medic had packed and left for his car, Hisham went to question the victim.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Morningstar. I am Chief Inspector Hisham. Could you please explain what happened here?"

"GOOD? Afternoon!" Lucifer Morningstar hissed; the first word full of disdain. "What happened, Chief Inspector?! I was attacked from behind by this bloody imbecile and got my clothing ruined!" His handsome and symmetrical face was displaying a cruel grimace while he was standing up, revealing a tall and lean but very muscular frame.

"Do you know him? Why do you think he selected you as his target?" The victim didn't look like one, the demeanor was indicating quite the contrary.

"Well, I believe that is pretty obvious, isn't it? The assailant chose me for who I am. All his swearing was quite clear, wasn't it? He wanted me back in Hell. The question is how he knew we were here. It's not like we announced it on the Insta."

Hisham was surprised the victim had understood Arabic and accepted the role the perpetrator had given him. He raised his eyebrows, waiting.

"You share the same faith as the backstabber, right? Then do me a favour. Please tell that bastard that when he dies I will make sure he will receive a warm and hearty welcome by 72 virgin shaitans who will tear his nails off of finger and toes, cut the phalanges into small pieces and make soup with them, then proceed to amputate all his limbs and elaborate smoked ham out of them. Nose, ears and eyeballs will be fed to my hellhounds. His genitals with end up as ash lingering over the Lake of Fire. And when the body restores itself and everything grows back, the shaitan maiden will do it all over again."

There was no emotion in his voice, just certainty, and the apparent detachment made the statement even more menacing.

"And if he or his family tries to hurt anybody in the future, I will come for them. My Dad and I might not see each other eye to eye, but for sure I am not his enemy and he doesn't like it at all if something happens to his children. No spawn of the bloody ass will ever enter Paradise." Lucifer stared at the detective without blinking. "I will make sure of it. And I expect you to deliver the message as I have no time to waste with such a scumbag."

Hisham couldn't help but shiver from fear under the scrutinous, sharp and devilish glare of the tall dark man. He was feeling targeted himself. It was not unusual for victims of a crime to feel rage or vengeance, but this was so far off reality and so steadfast at the same time, he had to take a step back and watch the sea for a minute to collect his thoughts. When he turned back to Lucifer Morningstar, the posture of the man who believed himself to be Iblis, had changed into someone much less intimidating. He was actually looking lovingly at his approaching wife.

"I would never forgive myself if something happens to her because of me." Lucifer whispered before he put up an adoring smile, walked the last meters towards his consort and exclaimed loud for everybody to hear: "Don't you feel like Bruce Willis on Fhloston Paradise?"

"And who are you? Ruby Red?" Chloe smirked, taking him by his belt buckle and kissing him softly on the lips.

"For you, certainly. I can put on some tights, put roses everywhere and scream insanely."

"I bet!" She embraced him at his lower back and pressed her chin against his pectorals. "But I just want you to be yourself. Forget what I said earlier today. Don't let them make you hide." She knew it was a mistake the moment she said it. "I'll order you an armor t-shirt and a pretty vest from Miguel Caballero and don't argue with me about it. You're too precious to me."

If it wasn't for the conversation Hisham had had, they seemed to be a completely regular couple in love, worried for the wellbeing of each other. He made a mental note to research them thoroughly including the mentioned business.

"Do you need anything else from us? A written statement? Or can we leave? My husband needs to rest." Chloe Decker Morningstar looked at the bearded policeman.

"I'll come by the manor tomorrow around ten."

"Please do so." And then Lucifer added: "In the meantime convey all my dears to the delinquent." His glance was dark and menacing again, the dominant Roman nose overshadowing part of his face.

xxxxx

Chloe was clenching Lucifer's hand as if releasing it would make him disappear into nothing. He was beyond paranoid, his mind running faster than a hamster in its wheel. He wasn't able to make one single joke, always glancing over his shoulder until they finally left the cab and entered their room quietly.

He went to look for bugs. Chloe couldn't talk him out of it. Neither he nor she found any traces of being observed by any tech devices. Then she helped him out of the jacket, the pullover and the shirt and stuffed them into a laundry bag. She checked the bandage.

"You are still bleeding. I should go so you can heal. I will see if I can find you something to eat and drink in the kitchen. It's far enough, I guess."

He acknowledged her, but didn't answer, looking out of the window.

She padded his right arm and went out and downstairs.


	10. Chapter 10

In the kitchen she stumbled over the chef.

"Excuse me, could you help me please?" she asked. She wasn´t used to command staff or to ask for a special favor. "My husband is not feeling well, and I don't think we can make it to afternoon tea. Is there a chance you can send us some sandwiches and cookies to our room? And some tea and a nice bottle of Scotch?"

"Of course, Madam. I can offer you a Lagavulin 16 Years Old or an Oban Little Bay and I will send you a selection of teas."

"Thank you. That would be nice! Please send both bottles for my husband to choose from."

xxxxx

Lucifer lay stretched out on his belly, eyes closed, when she returned. His breath was still uneven. She felt bad. To be targeted for who he was wasn't something she was used to yet. She petted his hair and he whined softly at her touch. Nothing prepared her for that. For years her perception of him had been of a strong, violent, fearless, over enthusiastic, and eccentric sex-maniac. He hid it so well behind this alter ego, she hadn't noticed until recently how shy, even hand shy he sometimes was.

Actually, she felt guilty. Again.

She went to look for her body oil among her toiletries. Well, it wasn't fancy, just a simple light sesame oil from the retailer, but it smelled good. Then she grabbed two white bath towels and a robe and went back to look for some warm socks of his. As a burn victim he was likely to suffer from hypothermia and would appreciate to be kept warm. And a stab wound needed the same care.

"Lucifer!", she whispered, "I am going to strip you and want you to roll over so I can place the towel in the center, and you can roll back immediately."

He barely responded with "I need to rest!" but did as she told him.

"May I see how your wound is doing?" When she didn't hear a no, she simply took it as a yes and lifted the bandage and the patch below. The upper skin layers had already started to grow together. Funny how he healed from the out- to the inside.

"I am going to massage you to take your stress level down and encourage your blood circulation to warm your body. No sex. Just to ease you up. I will start at your feet and work upwards. Ok?"

Just a grunt. She sighed. Then she took the other towel and covered his upper body carefully to keep him warm. The white robe came on top. And covered him from shoulders to his glorious glutes. No sound. He just let it happen, but his breath became slower and lighter.

Her body oil smelled rather neutral and she poured some drops into her left palm, warmed it between both and started to massage his left foot including the toes with strong circular movements of her thumbs as she had learned when doing martial arts during her police training. She slowed down after a couple of minutes and moved upwards, with lighter strokes from the Achilles tendon to the soleus. Chloe took one of the thick cotton socks and put it on, then she repeated the procedure on the other foot and leg. He was so stiff, she thought she had a log before her, and she had the feeling he didn't really enjoy it. Nevertheless, she continued to pour oil in her palms, warming it and rubbing it into the adductors. Now she got a reaction. Lucifer trembled and let out a barely audible grumble.

There was a knock at the door.

"Room service, Ma'am!"

Chloe cleaned her oily hands on Lucifer's butt and towel and went to receive the tray. Instead, she found out, they had brought a food cart with a full tea plate with her beloved lemon curd which he always would steal. She smiled at that thought. There were some shortcakes, butter cookies or how they called that on this side of the pond, eight sandwiches, a large thermos and two delicate teacups with matching saucers and plates, a box with assorted teabags, several types of sweeteners or sugars and the indispensable milk jar. There was a pair of tumblers, another one of water glasses, a silver ice bucket with its tongs and finally the bottles of Scotch she had asked for.

The waiter pushed the little cart into the room and eyed the already notorious Mr. Morningstar. Although he could only catch his hair between robe and cushions, he detected a sesame smell and grinned broadly, showing his inflamed gums to Chloe, who thanked and handed him a twenty-pound note, not knowing if that was too much, but she had seen Lucifer doing so, even if he usually had no idea how much was enough. She wanted that curious weasel gone. Was she getting paranoid, too? Or just embarrassed? Maze would surely laugh at her.

The oil had partially penetrated Lucifer's skin, but it still shone deliciously. She rubbed the rest in which caused him to let another moan out. His own scent mixed with the sesame and went straight to Chloe's brain. She had to kiss him on his sacrum.

"Chloe…" he exhaled faintly.

"Shhh!"

She pulled the towel from under his robe and covered his legs, putting the duvet on top before she continued with his lower back. She forced herself to only give him light circles with her fingertips. She had no idea if his body would already accept something more forceful. She covered him up again and took his left arm where she knew she couldn´t harm him and at the same time increase the speed of the blood stream of the brachial artery, or so she hoped. She worked her way from the fingers to the palm, stretching the phalanges and stayed there for a while, releasing tension, then going up until reaching his shoulder. He finally relaxed; she could feel it. She went on to massage his right arm and he fell asleep. She spread the robe evenly and the duvet up to the chin before she poured herself a cup of tea and reached absentmindedly for a sandwich.

What a weekend!

xxxxx

It was slowly getting dark, and Chloe decided to go for a walk in the vast garden of the manor in order to catch the last light of the day and let Lucifer heal. The areal was covered by a small mixture of a renaissance garden, scattered defense walls with vines and an orchard. There was a beautiful fountain and a stone shelter in form of a gazebo, former stables which were now used for events, some granite statues, and an old cross. She wrapped her coat around her as the wind began to blow stronger, but continued walking further away from the main building, discovering a bronze sundial. The place was enchanting, even at night. Such a pity that all the bad memories she had made over the weekend would be related to it. Chloe inhaled the fresh sea breeze and tried to make the best of it. She walked along the now bare rows of the orchard and imagined how it must look like in summer or early fall. Maybe they could return and have an entirely different experience.

She took out her cell and dialed up Trixie instead of sending her photos and hearts via WhatsApp. It was way before lunchtime in California and with any luck she was playing with a neighbor kid at Dan's place or at an ice cream parlor eating mountains of rocky road.

"Hi monkey! How's it going? What are you doing?"

Chloe let her daughter brag about latest karate trophy won the day before, how her dad had taken Maze with them and how Maze had praised her skills but commented that protections were for wussies.

"I bet Maze said that!" Chloe laughed "And what about your friends? Did you have your sleepover party?"

"No! Madison's mum couldn't bring her over and Brianna had a cold. But we will reschedule soon!"

Chloe grinned on the way her daughter was using her work vocabulary slip into her conversation to show her what a big girl she had become.

"Did you get all the pictures I sent you?"

"Sure mom! The boats look so small and all the houses are grey. But the place you're staying at is so cool!"

"Oh, you'd like it. I'll send you some nightfall photos I just took. Here it's already dark, monkey. The house has a huge garden. Well, it's actually more a park than a garden."

"It's a house? I thought it was a castle!"

"It's a house, but a very big one." She heard a crack of a twig and some steps on the gravel. "I have to go but have fun with dad and tell him I said hi." Chloe turned around but couldn't see anybody.

"Bye mom!"

"Bye, Trixie. Luv ya!" She shoved her cell into a pocket of her coat and listened.

No steps anymore.

She slowly returned back to the manor very sure she was being watched and followed. More than feeling unsettled, it made her angry. She looked at her new watch. Neither fancy diamonds nor gold. Just stainless steel for 'Sensible Chloe'. It wasn't even quarter to seven.

She walked along the trees rows which looked like long cold fingers, bare of any leaves and it was just October. She had expected yellow, orange and red leaves but all there was were wet brown leaves on the gravel of the main orchard path. The leaves muffled any sound of her boots and so they certainly did with the steps of any other person. The cold and wet weather reached deep into her bones and made her shiver, or was it the anticipation of something else?

She turned around, probably for the tenth time, pretending taking photos with her phone.

There! A man.

When he came nearer, she could see he was pushing a wheelbarrow with garden tools. A sturdy guy in his mid-forties with a beige raincoat. He bluntly stared at her when he passed by but didn't greet her. Chloe felt very uncomfortable and hurried up until she came to the sundial. It seemed to be quite old but was well taken care of. There were some additional inscriptions.

"Interesting, isn't it?" A man in a parka whom she hadn't noticed before suddenly stood next to her.

"I'd say, beautiful work of art. Do you know how old this sun dial is?" She tried to hide her surprise. "You aren't a guest, at least I haven't seen you. Do you work here?"

"Yes, I am responsible for the wine cellar and the pantry." The man was in his sixties and looked somewhat familiar.

"So you are like a sommelier? And the purchase manager? That's a fun job I guess." She tried to make small talk to win time. She needed to place him somewhere. That accent seemed oddly familiar, too.

"No. I am just getting what the owner of the manor decides is best for his guests." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "The sundial is older than your country. It is said it shows you the direct way to the cave that leads down to Hell when the moon is full."

"Creepy." It simply slipped out of Chloe's mouth and she rubbed her arms as a chill went through her.

"Interesting to hear that coming from you." The man made a sound similar to a hollow laughter that ended in a cough.

"Come again?"

"You are someone who is married to something that crawled directly out of it." He looked intently into her aventurine-colored eyes and she just equally stared back.

"I must be tired, I just heard something completely crazy." She cleared her throat, held her hands upwards and turned around, not caring whether she was polite or not. She hurried to the manor, listening if he was following her but she only could hear the chilly wind blow.

Out of breath she went up to the room where Lucifer was still sleeping, took her coat off and poured herself another cup of tea to warm up and calm down. The ice cubes had melted but he preferred his Scotch neat anyway. She thought of having a double but decided against it. She needed to think clearly. How come so many people in this place believed the existence of the Devil and Lucifer being it, even trying to kill or at least hurt him, when it had taken her so many years and only with actual prove to believe his devil talk? This wasn't normal. Lucifer behaved like a normal human being for the first time since she knew him and was vilified every second step he took. She needed to get to the bottom of it.


	11. Chapter 11

Chloe decided she would go downstairs to show up for dinner if only just to shut the people at the table up. She changed into the black jumpsuit and a matching jacket, took some wine-red high heels she hadn't worn over many years but packed for this occasion and headed for the dining room.

It was still too early, the table set and the fire burning, but no one to be seen, so she wandered along the gallery and went to see the painting again. She took some more photos with her cell phone, not just because of the man on it but for clues to the riddle they hadn't solved yet. It always hit her hard when confronted with Lucifer's age and she wondered if she wasn't anything more than his 'pet detective' as Maze had dubbed her years ago. No, she wasn't his toy. At least she didn't feel like that, never had felt like a mindless, insignificant toy to him. On the contrary, he had been the eager, playful puppy looking for a new bone, that is, a new murder, a new opportunity to punish the guilty. She still couldn't conciliate the idea of the flamboyant partner and now courteous husband with the terrifying torturer from Hell. The latter still scared her. A lot.

She embraced herself at the thought, rubbing her arms, suddenly feeling cold.

"Why are you alone, honey?"

She turned around and looked Ms. Mildred Thompson in the eye.

"Good evening! There was nobody in the dining room. When is dinner?"

"Soon. At seven thirty tonight as it is Sunday. You missed the traditional lamb roast for lunch." The nurse looked at the painting. "He sure looks like your husband."

"No. Just a resemblance because of the black locks and the nose."

"You keep telling yourself that." Ms. Thompson looked at Chloe with pity in her eyes.

"Don't tell me you believe the stuff Mr. Cunningham said?"

"I do not only believe it. I know it's true. Your husband wears the ring that belongs to the King of Hell." She grabbed Chloe's hand. "You should run away. As fast as you can to save your soul."

Chloe shook her head. No, they weren't going to manipulate her. Not again. She would not betray him. Not this time, nor ever again.

"No, you are so wrong! He's a good man and I know him for years. He has always held my back at work. He is completely trustworthy." She pulled her hand out of the woman's grasp and her voice became sad. "He was stabbed earlier today. That's why he's not with me." She waited for a reaction that would reveal the nurse as an accomplice, but there was only surprise in her face. "I do hope nobody from the manor is involved as there is a police investigation going on. Murder attempt is nothing to be taken lightly." Not waiting for an answer, Chloe went to the yellow salon to look for her armchair by the fire.

She had just been looking at some magazines when Maya Cunningham approached her.

"I just heard about your husband. Is he badly injured?"

"Enough to have to stay in bed and rest."

"I am so sorry. He seems nice. He was nice to me."

"He is. I don't understand why your father is so insistent about him being Evil Incarnate. My husband doesn't bother anybody unless he is provoked. _Well, that was a plain lie!_ We just wanted a relaxing weekend and look what happened."

"My father thinks the Angel of Darkness will bring evil to Earth."

"Why does he believe that?"

"It's in the Dead Sea Scrolls from Qumran."

"And he believes some two-thousand-year-old scrolls written by people who thought that lightnings were thrown by the gods? Wow!" Chloe rolled her eyes and closed her magazine on her lap. Inside she felt a turmoil, she knew the prophesy had been true, not in the way these people thought, and it lay in the past. She leaned forward and looked the young woman eye to eye. "I don't want to talk you out of your Bible stuff, I really don't. But please trust me if I tell you that we just want some well-deserved vacations."

Maya Cunningham nodded earnestly.

"Do you think you can be nicer to him? Or at least leave him alone? He wanted to make me happy and show me a bit around. Now he is injured and really miserable. It's not fair. It's really not fair at all."

Maya's father appeared and answered for her. "You expect us to be fair or nice to an evil entity that defied God?! You are expecting too much!"

"How often do I have to repeat myself? My husband is not evil! He is a civilian consultant for the police. Can't you let him be?" She buried her head in her hands and shook it, then she looked up. "Do you think an evil entity would be sleeping? Or would get injured? Haven't you heard from the attack? A disturbed man backstabbed my husband! While my husband was watching me collecting seashells for my daughter!"

She swallowed hard and got up. Each time she spoke about the murder attempt she got angrier. It was so unfair!

She stepped up to the man and looked him straight in his face. "I am telling you I won't let anything happen to him anymore. It has been enough." She was upset, but all her acting training for sure helped.

Cunningham listened but retorted: "The Devil is playing tricks on you, on all of us! You have to get out of the way and into safety. He will destroy you sooner or later and you will be damned for eternity! We are all damned if he walks the Earth."

"You stay away from him and we will get along just fine. Otherwise I will report you - or sue you. I told you that before. This already seems to be a Hell loop with you repeating yourself! You are all talking nonsense." She huffed and walked out of them, entering the dining room.

xxxxx

The dining room had lost its charm. The fire didn't warm her, nor did the beautiful tableware please her eyes anymore. It felt like a spider web, her being the fly. Neither the Landaus were present, nor the couple with the double name, nor the actress nor the investment banker. Not even the sleazy guy. They had probably left. It was Sunday evening after all.

Only the Cunninghams, the nurse, the administrator and his daughter were at the table. Chloe felt cornered. There was no way to reason with these people. She felt the urge to run out on them, pack her stuff and leave without looking back. She understood Lucifer's reluctance to explain himself, it was no use. It all fell on deaf ears. She sat on her place at the table. There was no one to her left or right, all sat in front of her as if she was on trial. Why did she have the sensation this had been carefully planned? She wouldn't barge out, no. If this was all premeditated it all depended on her behavior. She looked at the handwritten menu. She was not hungry anymore, but she wasn't going to give them the pleasure to have ruined her appetite.

The waiter served a hot oxtail soup and Chloe was thankful for the light and hot liquid. She ate in silence, only sometimes taking a sip of the mineral water she had ordered. No alcohol tonight. She needed to be alert.

"Your husband isn't coming to join us?" Mr. Thatcher asked.

"I am afraid not. There was an incident earlier today and he was injured. He is medicated and sleeping. By the way, tomorrow a chief inspector from the local police is coming to take our statement. I hope it isn't an inconvenience." Chloe tried to keep her voice professional.

"No, of course not. I will reserve the green room for you." Pauline Thatcher answered, looking a bit uneasy. The others looked into their soup; feigning an interest in it.

"Thank you!" Chloe gave her a tiny smile.

Cornish crab cakes were seconds. They were heavy with basil mayonnaise. Chloe scratched the mayo off and put it on the side. She had had enough today. This made the others look at each other, somewhat unsettled.

The 'Herb Crusted Loin of English Lamb' was the main course. She only ate the meat and the potatoes. No sauce, no vegetable puree. She had gotten suspicious and she didn't want anything that could disguise the flavor of any substance.

"Don't you like mayonnaise or gravy?" Pauline asked.

"Oh yes, I do. But I have to watch my weight. This weekend was too much and too good food. I have gained five pounds for sure." She managed a convincing smile this time.

"But you are so slim!" Maya pitched in.

"In California this is normal." _Another white lie._

"Really?"

"Really. In L.A. many people want to become famous in the industry, the movie and TV industry that is. That's why any given waitress, salesperson or police officer like myself is most likely a struggling actor or actress or a former one. We don't indulge in heavy meals or sinful desserts." _Indulge! Sinful!_ She was already using Lucifer's vocabulary.

"You are a police officer?" Pauline inquired.

"Yes, I am a homicide detective for the LAPD for some years now."

"Then I am grateful you didn't play the murder mystery with us. You would have outwitted us all."

"Probably." Chloe felt more at ease but was still very careful what she said. "But sometimes we focus so much on the details and procedures, we lose the whole picture. A true detective story fan does not." She smiled again. "By the way, why did you use all the pretty silver things for the rally? It would have been a pity if they would have gotten lost. In L.A. they would have been stolen five minutes after you hid them."

"This town is very safe. Everybody knows everyone." Mr. Thatcher replied. He suddenly went quiet, looking apparently embarrassed at his cutlery.

Chloe looked at her watch with the Roman letters. The stainless-steel Tank Française. His gift.

"If you excuse me please. It's time to look after my husband. His painkillers must be wearing off."


	12. Chapter 12

"Channeling Lucinda?" Lucifer sat on his crura in the middle of the bed, wearing the cotton robe and eating a sandwich.

"Uh?" Chloe looked down on her outfit, all black and red, and started to grin. "Yeah! You're rubbing off on me!" She was so happy being back with him and he looked utterly inviting. She was really addicted to him, she needed to be with him, make him feel loved when nobody else did. She could tell him about her awful evening later.

"Don't blame me!"

"Did I?" She grabbed a lemon curd and bit in it, teasing him with her eyes.

"Didn't you just have dinner?"

"I did, but no dessert. How do you feel?"

She slid on her knees towards him and took his robe down to examine his wound. It was almost gone. Only a faint scar was left. She instinctively pressed her lips on it - as she had done with Trixie when she fell from the bike, or from the tree, or from a wall trying out skateboard tricks. He still flinched a little. Then she put the patch back on it place.

"Oh, you are insatiable!"

"I have to catch up for all these months without you. And you are a delightful no calorie dessert. I actually hope we are going to burn some calories together." She kissed his back again and again.

Lucifer turned around and kissed her neck, helping her out of the jacket and throwing it over to the armchair. He took her hands and sucked at each finger, then licked her palms, kissed them, and bit carefully into the fingertips.

"You are truly a dessert! Like sumptuous ice cream. I want to devour you from head to toe!" He fumbled her high heels open, barely touching the skin – just enough to spark desire in her – and threw them off the bed. His long fingers ran along toes, tickling her soles and heels until she let out a slight shriek. With his teeth he began to undress her, pulling the strings of the jumpsuit over her shoulders. Chloe enjoyed the heat coming out of his mouth, his nose, his pores… she leaned into him, her hands on his muscular legs wandering to his butt and squeezing the glutes just enough to make him focus on her. He licked over her teeth and she basked in his heat, meeting his tongue with hers, mixing sweet with salty, longing, not wanting to part and then breaking off - just to meet again. Lucifer draped her hair around her shoulders. Golden cascades. Lucifer smiled, nipped her neck, licked over her throat and kissed it afterwards. He wandered to her breasts, undid her bra, cupped the perfectly grapefruit-sized half spheres, weighing and caressing them before nibbling their pink center. She started to tense, feeling electrified, goosebumps of pleasure and joy all over her body.

He pulled her jumpsuit under her waist and breathed between her breasts while she slung her arms around him carefully. His heat washed over her again and she felt her body relax and tense in waves. They had barely started, and she already wanted him inside her.

"Oh, little Lucinda! Patience and I'll guide you to the pleasure dome!"

"Can't wait for it!"

Her hands found her way up, over his well-defined and hard torso to his dark stubbles which were already looking more like a beard and getting softer on the way. She kissed him, pushed her tongue through his parted lips to meet his again. This time he tried to retain her there with teeth and lips, sucking and playing with his tongue around hers. She closed her eyes and let him have his way. His hands had started to play with her hair and caressing her earlobes. He knew she liked it and he was going to make her feel special, for she was. His tongue now found its way into her mouth, beyond her pearly teeth, poking her cheeks from the inside, making her salivate, searching for her soft palate, stimulating her uvula. She moaned and he reciprocated.

He helped her to get finally rid of the clothes by pushing her to lay on the side and pulling it off with one soft movement of his legs. He never ceased touching Chloe's skin while continuing kissing her, turning her on her back and straddling her, rearranging her hair around her face. He then pushed himself up and exclaimed:

"Now I am in my goldilocks' zone. Everything is just right. Enjoyed this amuse bouche? How about getting in medias res?"

"Will you just stop talking?"

"Little less conversation, little more action. Got it." He grinned mischievously.

xxxxx

After they had reached climax Chloe had fallen asleep.

Lucifer watched her breathing in and out, even and regular like clockwork. He tucked her in, kissed her on the forehead and went to the bathroom to look for her wipes. Showering was nothing he wanted to do right now. He liked her scent on him too much. He cleaned himself and went back to finish the sandwiches and biscuits and intended to pour himself a cup of tea. The water had cooled down and didn't serve its purpose anymore. He looked at the two bottles of Scotch. Lovely! And of good quality. But he wanted something warm. He reached for his pajamas, got dressed and wore his own black robe on top. Then he grabbed the soft black velvet moccasins with the monogram Chloe had presented him, so he wouldn't be cold during the winter months.

Sensible Chloe! Always thinking about others.

He looked at her, smiling, closed the curtains of the canopy bed and left the room in search of something to drink.

The manor seemed deserted.

There were no voices coming out of the library, there was no crackling of the various fireplaces, no steps of high heels on wooden or stone floors. Lucifer's ears couldn't detect any sound, not even a rustling of fabric with the exception of his own. Silence before the storm. He felt the rush of an imminent chase and it wasn't yet sure if he was the prey or his hunter was going to be his. Exciting! He walked to the kitchen. His senses scanning for any hint of a sudden appearance. Nothing yet. He looked for a mug and switched the coffee maker on. Jura, not Pavoni like at home. Still acceptable. He raided the refrigerator taking out whole milk, clotted cream and jam. The full tea cart hadn't satiated his sweet tooth and he craved for it while waiting for things to happen. There were still some bread rolls from dinner, and he enjoyed the fresh dough smell in combination with the dairy and the fruit flavors. Coffee was strong and invigorating. He poured himself a second and a third refill. Nobody had come for him. Yet.

There it was. A heartbeat which didn't belong to his beloved human. Strong. Male.

He followed the sound to the gallery and on to the library. It was so obvious now. The man had planned for it. Deceived him. Why didn't he see the clues? Didn't want to see them.

'If you want peace, prepare for war.' Hasn't that been on one engraving? He was always prepared for war for peace was never given to him.

"Mr. Thatcher! Good evening! The eleventh hour! How appropriate! What can I do for you?"

"Good evening, your Highness!" The man stood up but stayed where he was.

Lucifer chuckled and bent slightly forward.

"All this trouble to talk to me alone. Without the zealots, the greedy or the female distractions. You could have called me on my mobile."

"I needed prove."

"And did you get it?" Lucifer buried his hands in his gown's pockets. Waiting.

"Not exactly, but close enough. Your consort was a variable I hadn't foreseen. She is not a trophy wife, I gather." Mr. Thompson coughed.

"No, she's not."

"A bodyguard maybe? And… an atheist? Does she even know what you are?"

Lucifer snorted.

"She is not the center of this conversation." He replied dryly, not leaving the administrator out of sight. No! Correction. He is the owner.

"No." The gray-haired man came one step closer.

"What is it you desire then? You are well-off. You have a pretty daughter. If that is your daughter. It seems your life is quite… comfortable." He raised an eyebrow, assessing Thatcher's stature, posture, then proceeded with a Flehmen response.

"Carcinomas. I see."

"Stage four. Not a lot one could do about them anymore." Mr. Thatcher acknowledged.

"So, what is it you desire? Health? I am neither a healer nor a medic."

"Yes, I suppose I had high hopes. But no. I want you exterminated, so I my death is not in vain." His voice faltered just a tiny bit.

"Your death? My existence has nothing to do with humans going to Hell or not. It's entirely up to you. Do you think I could afford spending a weekend in your lovely manor if that would be the case?" Lucifer kept his distance and his hands in his pockets. There was another scent he had perceived when he entered the room. Fresh paint? Thinner? Gasoline? "You just got this house, right? It's just a mean to an end. There is no personal connection. How insightful!"

"It's just a honey pot to trap a bear and it worked, didn't it?" Mr. Thatcher tried to ignite a cigar.

"True. You lured something in, if not exactly a bear. It was well organized. I give you that. However, you are now in a moral dilemma. If you lighten the cigar and throw it on the flammable textiles you have so thoroughly prepared, you will murder at least one innocent being, namely my sleeping consort. If I am not the Devil, then there would be a second murder. If I am the Devil, I would not be affected by the fire. Either way you would end up in Hell. I would call it a draw as we have been playing chess the whole weekend, haven't we? You with many more pawns on the board than me. You used your bishops, the local one and the summoned one with his own pawn – his daughter. The gardener and the other guests. Everybody served your purpose, am I correct? Anyhow, the Dark Queen did all the necessary movements and the Dark King was always protected. He might be in check, but the other king is in checkmate now and alone on the board. Wouldn't you agree?" He grinned diabolically.

Thatcher paled somewhat and lowered the lighter.

"I hadn't conceived or contemplated it as a game of chess, but yes, you were a formidable opponent. You were playing dumb and most of the people believed you and your consort. She is a remarkable person. She has not a clue what you are, correct?"

Lucifer chuckled. "Still poking? I told you she is not the center of our conversation. You are. Your motives are. Maybe your illness is." He didn't move, concentrated on the man in front of him, his grey suit, his beige camelhair coat, the black shoes and their neatly tied laces. Everything told him that this man did everything with special attention to detail. So why hadn't he checked his cancer before? He couldn't imagine him to be sloppy with health checks. Unless… "May I ask you something? What about your wife? She has passed away. Two, three years ago?"

"Yes. She was the apple of my eye. She was the best thing that has happened to me. I watched her wither away, day by day, month after month until she was no more." Lucifer could see the sorrow that consumed the man in front of him, the one who was willing to walk over corpses for his believes or his goals. A duality he experienced as well.

"If you are a believer, then you must be sure she went to Heaven. So why risk being reunited further ahead by committing suicide and murder? That forfeits that goal."

"I want to save my daughter, save other people." Mr. Thompson had watery eyes, but his voice wasn't shaky. Lucifer had a very bad feeling in his stomach…

Mr. Thatcher lit the lighter and let it fall on a couch nearby. It caught fire immediately. So did the heavy rug underneath.

"You fool!" Lucifer yelled and rushed upstairs to wake Chloe.

xxxxx

The door slammed when he closed it and went for wet towels to put at it.

"Chloe, get up and dressed! We have a problem." He grabbed his jeans, shirt and pullover which were crumbled on the armchair and put them on. Then he rushed back to the bathroom to collect their stuff and throw them into the weekender bag. She stared at him but dressed herself.

"What's going on?"

"The bloody idiot set the house on fire. We need to pack and leave now!"

"Almost everything is in the bags already. Packed it in the morning." She put her warm coat on.

Lucifer tried to open a window, but it was stuck. He smashed the glass and wrapped himself around Chloe. "We have to jump. I'll get our stuff afterwards. You make the emergency call." He dragged her to the windowsill and jumped, devil wings stretched out. He then returned to the room for the two weekenders and his garment bag and threw them out.

"Run to the street Chloe! I'll see if I can get the imbecile out of the house."

He went out into the hallway, which already was full of heavy smoke. Visibility was down to 2 meters tops, but he followed the sound of the heartbeat. Mr. Thompson was barely alive in the burning library. Lucifer rushed in, carried the unconscious man out of it and to the main entrance of the manor. He then went to the kitchen for buckets of water, trying to protect what was salvageable. His painting! He closed the door to the library which was beyond help; however he soaked the door and the rugs around the place. Stone walls were a blessing, indeed. Thompson hadn't thought about how they affected the expansion of the fire.

By then he could hear the faint sirens on the way over.


	13. Chapter 13

Hisham was taking notes in the former stable, Mr. Thompson had been rushed to the next hospital with intoxication, while Lucifer sat in front of the chief inspector giving his statement.

"You carried him out all by yourself? You weren't in the best condition some hours ago."

"I just said that, Chief Inspector." Lucifer was more than annoyed of being at the other end of the interrogation. "Fortunately, he was unconscious, otherwise it would have been difficult. He was very determined to commit murder-suicide. He has cancer and apparently metastasis in his brain in order to react that way. Besides we were the last guests in the manor. The others had left after dinner. We were staying because of the statement we were going to give you tomorrow." He stood up and paced in front of the police officer. "It's a pity the library burnt out completely." Lucifer added. "But at least I saved the gallery." He smiled faintly and continued: "Again, what are you going to do about my spouse? Since she got out, I haven't been able to contact her. It's over an hour now! Everything goes straight to the mailbox. And the luggage is still here." He motioned to the bags on a bench.

Hisham went out of the stable and came back within a minute.

"My colleagues have found a mobile next to the road." It was in an evidence bag and definitely Chloe's. Lucifer paled. Chloe carried her phone everywhere; it was always on and had so many times interrupted their special moments.

"It is hers; I gather." Hisham looked at him.

Lucifer Morningstar nodded. "She would never leave it behind."

"So you think she didn't just leave voluntarily or lost the phone?"

Lucifer's eyes became instantly darker and his voice harsh. "What are you insinuating? She is a trained police officer, just as you are. Would you forget your mobile? You have seen her. Do you consider her to be unprofessional?" Then, he almost whispered: "Do you think she would leave a loved one without any notice? We are newlyweds, even if we know each other for some years now."

His brain started to race. Who would abduct Chloe? There had been many people at the place following him, observing him, but he didn't think they would target her, even less after Mr. Thompson's speech. She was considered a simple appendix, nobody of importance. Cunningham? The gardener? Somebody had to have her or at least an idea who. Maze could get her sore ass over the pond to help him find her. He needed to get out of the place and act.

"I can't probably stay here, correct? Can you recommend me a place for the night? A nice one would do." Not that he was going to use the bed anyway.

"The Harbour Hotel on Station Road is probably the one for you. Let me get you a driver. I will call the owner."

"Thank you, Chief Inspector! Please keep me in the loop. I can be of assistance." Lucifer stared at the man, using his mojo to convince him to call him immediately. "You will call me the moment you receive any information regarding Chloe Decker Morningstar." He slipped him his phone number in one of the jacket pockets.

According to the net the Harbour Hotel was a recently refurbished Victorian four-star place, usually under Lucifer's expectations, but it would do. The kitchen was allegedly award winning, which was a plus, even if he had no appetite.

When he was led to his suite, he was positively surprised. There was complimentary gin and sherry, a waterfall shower and a decent sea view through a bull's eye window, even if the cotton bedsheets were somewhat harder than he liked it.

He showered and changed into some more climate adequate clothes. If he was going to get outside, looking for her, he wasn't going to get soaked again. Somehow, he had the feeling she wasn't far away but used as leverage against him.

xxxxx

Chloe Decker Morningstar stared angrily at Mildred Thompson and the Scottish man in the parka. The wine cellar was cold; too cold for the red wine and herself. She sat opposite the alleged nurse who was trying to brainwash her again and again. She was not bent, but locked in, behind the iron gates of the cellar.

"Honey, this is for your own good. Why didn't you listen to me earlier? You may not know it, but in fact you have wed the Devil, the King of Hell. May God have mercy on you!" Ms. Thompson made the sign of the cross.

"You are barking up the wrong tree. I cannot fathom how you could need God's mercy living well in the twenty first century. We live in the age of science, of enlightenment, of technology. We have become our own gods and masters. We create our world. Sometimes we create good things, sometimes terrible things, but it's always us who are responsible, not some supernatural being."

"So why did you run to the Vatican over a year ago?"

"I was in a bad place and needed additional information. Going straight to the source would have been better. I realized it just before it was too late."

"Why did you approach my brother?", the man in the parka inquired.

"Father Kinley?" Chloe now knew why he looked and sounded so familiar. "I didn't. He did. I was researching the Vatican library when he introduced himself."

"But you did believe that Lucifer Morningstar was the Devil himself?"

"I didn't know what to believe. I don't believe or acknowledge anything if I don't have all the evidence and facts together. That was the reason I went to Rome. I was never in Sunday school and not acquainted with the Bible stories. I thought the Vatican would have the best source and compendium of those stories. In the end I found out that things are not always what they seem and that, like Saint-Exupéry said several times, one has to learn to see with the heart."

'You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.'

She sighed remembering other quotes from the Little Prince.

'To forget a friend is sad. Not everyone has had a friend.'

How it applied to her. She was responsible for her Devil, like the prince was for the fox, and she had almost forgotten her friend and partner when she had been in Rome and only seen the appearance and not the heart. She had so much to make up for their friendship, their bond. She brought this situation over them and she could not forgive herself yet.

"Do you believe Lucifer Morningstar isn't the Devil?" he looked intently into her eyes.

"Isn't that all about what you believe? I have made myself quite clear." Chloe stared back, her attitude calm and composed. "There is no Spanish Inquisition anymore and no witches or warlocks are burned at the stake because we know better. We know that the brain works to cope with traumas. We also know that good and bad are concepts of our own morality and we are responsible for our acts and should never blame others."

"You are an atheist. How interesting. Can't you see what you have in front of you?"

"Sure, I have two delusional people in front of me who want to convince me that my husband is a billion-year-old evil entity with three heads who eats souls. You should stop believing in fairy tales." If they could try to play with her brain, so could she, gaining time and maybe find a solution to her situation.

"What happened in Los Angeles, the many corpses… was that a delusion?"

"I am so sorry for what happened there. Your brother's body was found stretched on the center of an altar or so it seemed. I wasn't in charge of the investigation, but apparently it was a cult thing."

"What else could he have been? And the perpetrators Satanists!" Kinley's brother was angry. "Your husband was gone for months afterwards. Why was that?"

"It all looks connected. I understand. But your brother wasn't killed by him." Chloe hoped to get through to him. "We have a statement of the person who did it and it was self-defense. Your brother might have been given some drugs. Probably he had been the first victim of all that deplorable bloodshed at the event site. The Mayan is a popular place which is up to rent for anyone who has the sufficient amount of cash and music groups as well as companies and even cults use it."

Kinley inhaled heavily. That wasn't what he expected to hear. Nothing of the conversation was how he had expected it. He had believed Chloe Decker Morningstar to be an easy target because his brother had described her as weak, scared, jumpy, eager to believe in the Evil Incarnate and in front of him sat a professional police woman who was not only denying the veracity of the Bible but was a secure, self-sufficient personality of strong convictions and at the same time very calm. She didn't scream or tried to flee but rebuffed every question they made. Her brother had probably been wrong and so was he. It didn't matter anymore if she would have married the Devil or an eccentric coworker who pretended to be it, probably as a marketing stunt. She wasn't a tool of evil without free will but a person with her feet on the ground. He was angry at himself to have him exposed as a believer of his brother's figment of imagination. But the damage was done. He had exposed his identity. He couldn't let her go without facing repercussions. His mind raced after that conclusion.

xxxxx

Lucifer went back to the manor. The wind had picked up and the rain intensified, but he still hoped to find any clues to Chloe's whereabouts. They couldn't have gone far. Nervous fanatics were unpredictable, and time was an issue. The heavy clouds let no moonlight through, but the road was lit by faint streetlights and it almost turned the walk to the hill into a romantic setting. No cars passed by and so he used the middle of the road, scanning for any sign of her. Sunday night wasn't likely a time to encounter people either, as the officers had left the premises.

Aside of the police tape there was no security at the manor. Perks of a small town.

He started to walk from below the window toward the wall. There were some fresher footprints the police certainly overlooked because of the darkness. According to them there had been a struggle. And they led the way towards another building behind the former stables. It was probably too easy, but maybe they counted on the weather because they had no time to cover their tracks or simply didn't care. Either way he followed them up to an old and wooden door. He waited and listened. No voices. Carefully he sneaked in and looked around. There were no lights on, either. But something was different, he could feel it. Dimness had never been an issue, but this place was a veritable junk yard, filled with old garden tools, shelves bending under rusty paint cans, canisters, a lawnmower which probably already celebrated its silver jubilee and a tractor that witnessed World War II. If he didn't watch out, he would make a hell of a noise.

It was a hunt and he enjoyed the excitement of hunting a perpetrator. His senses became more and more alert by the minute while he looked for clues or traces of a further struggle. The chaos made it difficult but not impossible. He inhaled and he perceived a faint scent of her body lotion hidden behind the predominant gasoline, oil and soil. So she had been here. Lucifer Morningstar followed the trail like the predator he was. It finished at a rear door and he had to leave the building and get out again. The scent had been erased by the now pouring rain, but that wouldn't stop him. Three small buildings lay at the cobblestone lane. He went for the nearest one, a storage room for more garden tools, but didn't get any clues to Chloe's whereabout. Same happened at the second, a place full of straw and hey, but at the last one he got something. He swung the door open, but the place was almost empty.

Was it?

He listened intently and perceived four heartbeats. He looked around, but there was no other door, just three shelves with preserves, cans, oil, vinegar, salt, sugar, flour – the typical long-lasting food people kept as basic stock in a pantry. There was smoked ham and some sausages hanging from hooks. Lucifer was sure that a cellar had to be nearby, probably under the house. Food and beverages were rarely placed apart in those buildings, although there could be some more under the manor itself. Behind the shelves was no space for a hidden room so he looked for a trap door. Indeed! A relatively new pine door was exactly below a dreadful light tube full of dust and cobwebs he nearly hit with his head. With a disgusted grunt he stepped back immediately, listening again for heartbeats and voices. Chloe's was easy to distinguish, a bit faster but steady. So she wasn't in any imminent danger which gave him time to assess the situation.

Usually he wouldn't have waited and burst in, but he was a responsible Devil now and he had to ensure the safety of his consort. He would wait for someone to come up or if Chloe was under distress. He enjoyed the anticipation of punishing the people who had abducted her, perhaps one of the hooks would provide a good place for a little torture. He took the long salami and a knife and sat in a dark corner, slicing it up, savoring it, and expecting a delightful night of retaliation.


	14. Chapter 14

He had already finished the salami when the trap door's hinges started to make a noise and the nurse appeared. Lucifer Morningstar was torn between punishing her right on the spot or let her leave. She would probably not return tonight, but his desire to give her the well-deserved retribution was stronger.

"Hello nurse!" he spoke after she had closed the entrance to the cellar. "Remember me?"

He stretched his angel wings and their glow entranced the elder woman who came nearer.

"You are an angel!" She sighed and tried to touch the white feathers.

"Tell me nurse, what do you desire most?"

"I want to touch your wings! They are beautiful!" she panted enthusiastically.

"Well, well. You may, but first you have to tell me who is down there and what they want with Chloe."

"Yes, yes, just let me touch them."

He raised one eyebrow. "So?"

"Two men from my congregation are downstairs, they will come shortly and bring her something to drink. They don't want anything from her anymore. It was a misunderstanding."

"Is that so?" The fallen archangel grinned and let his mind poking go. The nurse reached for the wings and padded them with utmost delight, losing herself in their sight, a stupid smirk drawn on her face. 'Funny how celestial wings cause more damage to the human brain than the other ones', he thought. He plucked one and handed it to the woman before he made them disappear again. She was getting completely absorbed by it and he couldn't care less. He took another Hungarian salami from the pantry and waited until a man, he had never seen before, showed up.

"Mildred! What are you still doing here? What do you have there?"

She only giggled, showed him the glowing feather and he, too, was immediately spellbound by it. Lucifer didn't even have to move a finger and passed them like a shadow.

Downstairs, the cellar had a moldy stench and not the usual wine cellar smell, it was far too cold and humid. Perhaps the place had been a former dungeon or even an oubliette; the low ceilings with the arches and pillars made from massive blocks, iron bars and gates certainly gave that impression. People could be held here for ages without anybody noticing. He followed the pounding of Chloe's heart, which was very close to the slower beat belonging to a man. Now Lucifer could make out words. She was trying to convince her gaoler to let her go. Calm and deliberate as always. And like every time Lucifer was proud of her professional attitude, rarely showing fear or distress. The man on the other hand was nervous, probably torn by the notion he had imprisoned an innocent, but Chloe talked him down, like she often did when people tried to take justice or revenge into their own hands. The former angel approached without being noticed by the older man and Chloe was trained enough to not look him in the eye but keeping the man busy.

"Mr. Kinley, please be reasonable. You made a mistake and I won't hold it against you if you let me go instantly." The man shook his head.

Lucifer Morningstar inhaled deeply, and a growl escaped him. Another Kinley! And as stubborn as the other one!

That sound was enough to make the Scot turn around and draw a cutlass, holding it towards Lucifer's handsome face.

"What is it with Brits and hunting knives?"

"I knew you would come, infernal creature! It doesn't matter if you're actually the Devil or not, but you're responsible for my brother's death and you will pay for that." Kinley declared.

"I most certainly am not!" Lucifer Morningstar replied with a deeply offended voice, slicing another piece of salami. "It was his own making." He put a piece into his mouth.

"Really? Are you eating in front of me without sharing?" Chloe pretended to be annoyed, already suspecting a distraction.

"If this Kinley would let me approach, I could, but you see, he's quite adamant for me to stay away."

"Ah, and one single man is enough to keep you away from me? You're quite the husband!" She gesticulated with her right.

"Well, what do you expect me to do? Grow some horns and tail, so he is happy? I already told you, I don't have any! People got it all wrong." He lifted his hands as if in defeat, his knife in one and the food in the other and took two steps towards Chloe.

"Don't make me responsible for the misconceptions of others." Chloe huffed.

Kinley backed slightly off, surprised by the martial quarrel and let Lucifer approach the gate with the ancient lock. Chloe took the opportunity to take both items from him so he could do his magic with the lock behind his back while keeping the Scotsman and his cutlass busy.

"Tell me, Mr. Kinley. You wouldn't attack an unarmed man, would you?" Lucifer stared into the man's eyes while trying to open the gate without a suspicious noise. "I just want my consort save and sound. Is making me pay for something I didn't do, and your brother brought on him all by himself really all that you desire? What do you truly desire?"

Kinley stared back at him and stuttered: "I, I, I …"

"Yes?" Lucifer raised an eyebrow, keeping his eyes locked with the dead priest's brother. "Please do go on."

"I want the Devil to leave Earth!" He tried to stab the man in front of him, but Lucifer Morningstar was faster and disarmed Kinley on the floor while Chloe left her cell unharmed. She took a rope from a hook and cuffed the man with it.

"I am sorry to disappoint you, but I have just recently returned, and I can't leave my family behind again." He answered matter-of-factly, smiling at his precious human. "Chloe, dearest, what's the police's number?"

xxxxx

Hisham observed the couple sitting in the back of his car and looking happily at each other. This had been his busiest weekend since working on the countryside and everything was apparently connected to them, or rather to the husband. One assassination attempt, arson, kidnapping, two people in need of a mental institution, an arrest and a hospitalization. He wondered if it would continue for as long as they were in town.

"When are you leaving?"

"Hopefully Tuesday, if you take our statement tomorrow." The wife answered him, not taking her eyes off her husband.


End file.
